Stepping Out
by ladyspock7
Summary: Set pre-movie. Fifteen year old Megamind has had it with prison life, and decides to strike out on his own. With Minion, of course. Though perhaps the middle of a Michigan winter was not the best time to run away, and now he has made a new and powerful enemy.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's notes: This story is set pre-movie, about teenage Megamind's first foray into the wider world._

* * *

_"Two wrongs don't make a right, but they make a good excuse." -Thomas Stephen Szasz_

* * *

Stepping Out

Chapter 1

Megamind frowned at the hydraulic press. As the familiar murmur of men and machines swirled around him, the fifteen year old inmate was glad that it wasn't possible to actually die of boredom. Sid and Lenny passed by. Sid was in full complaint mode.

"Charlie never puts the mop heads in the wash," Sid said.

"Give him a break. He's got asthma," said Lenny.

"He just says that to get out of work," Sid griped. "I'm always cleaning up after him! I've got a bum knee and nobody cares about that!""

Megamind sighed. He'd heard the same conversations a million times and made about a billion license plates.

His mind wandered to the National Geographic article about jet packs, which was far more interesting. The article was short on technical details but he'd read it so often he had it memorized. '_...propulsion system strong enough to lift a grown man the size of Michael Jackson into the air as a cool exit from a concert stage...the stuff of science fiction made real...'_ Idly he twirled a license plate in his hands.

He jumped when someone struck the press with a wrench. The resounding clang was like a slap to the ears. He glared at Justin Henkler, fellow prisoner and bane of his existence. Justin was like an older brother. In some ways exactly like an older brother. Justin grinned, baring his crooked teeth. His mousy brown hair frizzed all over his head like a supernova. There were a couple of residual pimples hanging on for dear life on his chin.

"Gotta wake you up somehow," he said innocently. "You're daydreaming all day. Want me to knock your fat head next time? I can't miss." He sniggered.

"How about you go away and come back when you learn a new joke? Should only take you ten or twelve years," Megamind said, sneering. Justin gave him a hard look. Megamind glared back and clenched his fists, in case Justin tried to give him a noogie again. Whatever that was. Apparently it involved yelling the word in an annoying voice and putting the victim in a headlock. Last month Megamind had to punch and elbow Justin to get him to back off. He did not have any desire to find out what a noogie was. It sounded very unpleasant.

"I hear you're taking the GED next week," Megamind said. He made his voice slow and precise, for the hard of thinking. "Let me give you some hints. One plus one is two, two plus two is -"

Sarcasm was not in Justin's vocabulary, but he knew it when he heard it. He leaned forward a little to deliver a rebuttal, but stopped as he sensed the heavy tread of the guard. George Bronski eclipsed the lights as he paused to give them his full attention. Justin scurried back to his station and Megamind immediately turned back to his press. Bronski was a new guard, an ex-boxer, and, like many new recruits, was altogether too eager to enforce rules.

After a tense moment, Bronski appeared to be satisfied that his presence had gotten results. He lumbered on to intimidate the rest of the room.

Megamind paused to look around for Minion. Minion, from his own station next to Harry the embezzler, had noticed the exchange with Justin and was anxiously peering at him. Harry, too, was looking at him with a worried expression in his watery eyes. Minion's linebacker-sized robotic suit was the largest model yet and Megamind was proud of his work. For being constructed from bits and pieces salvaged from the mechanic's bay and the prison dump, it was quite effective. It protected Minion, gave him freedom of movement, and incidentally protected Megamind too. More than a few fights had been averted by the looming, scowling presence of Minion. There were times when one of Megamind's innocent remarks rubbed some inmate the wrong way. But it was amazing how quickly the offended party backed off when Minion towered over them.

Megamind gave them a little nod and a grin. No problem here. He could handle Justin. Minion smiled and nodded back. Megamind turned back to the press. He maintained enough presence of mind not to get his fingers caught in it but his mind was elsewhere.

'_...the amount of thrust required to lift any sort of substantial weight is comparable'...well, part of the problem is the power source. They could get better results if they would just-_

He was shoved hard from behind. He fell against the press, banging his shoulder.

"Ow!" he shouted. Furious, he whirled around and glared at the smirking Justin.

Two aisles down, Bronski lifted his head and changed course. He began to scull his way back towards the commotion.

Justin sneered at Megamind. "Poor baby. You gonna sic your pet fish on me?" Snorting, he began to turn away.

Megamind snatched up a license plate and whipped it at him. Justin dodged. The plate whirred through the air like a homicidal pheasant and struck the approaching guard smartly across the forehead. Bronski's head snapped back. He staggered back a step, then straightened up, rocking a little.

Megamind froze. Justin's eyes bulged. Minion gasped and the entire room held its breath.

_ Well, isn't this an interesting development,_ Megamind thought, swallowing through a throat gone dry. _Never hit a guard before._ Needled, yes. Heckled, sure. But struck? That was taking it a bit far. It had been an accident, but ol' George didn't look very amenable to an apology.

Generally he considered the guards to be one of those inevitable hardships, sort of like the weather. You could complain about the rain all you liked, but you weren't supposed to attack it.

Justin carefully sidled away, leaving a clear path. Bronski slowly raised a disbelieving hand to the cut on his forehead. He looked at the red smear on his fingertips.

Megamind watched in horrified fascination as the shock in the man's face turned to fury. He was aware that Minion was working his way over but Megamind didn't dare take his eyes off Bronski. A small, crazed grin hitched up half of Megamind's mouth.

When Bronski lunged at him, he bolted and dove under a table. Bronski grabbed his ankle, Minion tackled Bronski, and the room erupted. Justin and a couple of other troublemakers began flinging tools around. The older prisoners shouted at them and backed up out of the chaos.

"You stupid punks!"

"You're gonna get us all in trouble!"

"I'm not cleanin' that up!"

The guard by the door shouted out into the hallway. "Backup! Help! We need backup! Now!"

The force of Minion's tackle caused Bronski to lose his grip and Megamind hopped up on the other side of the table. "Good job, Minion," he shouted, making the most of it. Guards were pushing their way in to re-establish control. It would have, perhaps, been more prudent to surrender, but Megamind's blood was up, and something in him was not about to go quietly. He considered fleeing out into the hallway, but there was a crush of people by the door, struggling and shouting.

Two guards were advancing. He fled, flinging boxes and tools in his wake to slow up the pursuit.

"Run, Meg, run!" Justin crowed.

_I'll get you, _Megamind seethed, _You sorry son of a-_

They were tasering Minion. George Bronski jerked himself free as the heavy metallic body slumped over. The bowl of the dome opened. It might've been the electrical charge interfering with the suit's feature's that caused it to malfunction. Or Minion himself opened it, in his state of shock and disorientation. The result was the same. Minion spilled out onto the floor. The guards backed away from the flood of water. Then one of them kicked Minion into a table leg.

"No!" Megamind shouted. Heedless of the orders to halt, he hurtled over and around obstacles. The small body came into view as he rounded the last corner and then Bronski stepped into his path and punched him between the eyes.

He landed painfully against one of the presses. When his vision cleared, he caught a merciful glimpse of Harry, who darted in among the milling feet and snatched Minion off the floor. Then Bronski blocked his line of sight and knocked him out.

* * *

Minion floated, sore and angry, in the aquarium in the assistant's office. There weren't any fish in it. Just him. He'd been banished to the tank before, on other occasions when they'd been punishing his master. He wondered how long he'd be stuck in here this time. Nobody would tell him. A lot of people wouldn't talk to him at all when he wasn't encased in his robotic suit. They ignored him like he was just some fish. The robot suit, which gave him a roughly humanoid form, suggested more strongly to others that he was, in fact, a sentient being capable of rational thought. That and the fact that he could crush skulls with his metallic hands also helped gain a little respect. Not that he'd ever actually do any crushing, actually. But he certainly seemed capable of it; it preyed on people's minds. It encouraged them to talk to him with at least a little civility.

His sides ached where the point of the guard's boot had struck him, and from his collision with the table leg. He was grateful for Harry's brave action. Interfering in the guard business of subduing unruly prisoners was dangerous, even if it was an act of mercy. Harry was lucky he hadn't been subdued himself.

Harry saved Minion from getting stomped, and brought him over to a sink full of water. A sympathetic guard later allowed Harry to take Minion to the aquarium. The robotic suit was, he thought, shoved away into a closet somewhere.

Andrew Johnson, the warden's assistant, typed busily away on a computer. The gentle bubbling of the aquarium was the only other sound in the room, other than the sound of irate voices which came from behind the warden's closed door. They were too muffled for Minion to make out what they were saying.

Andrew tapped fussily at a small stack of files, looked at the door, and sighed. Finally he pressed his lips together in a thin line and went to open the door.

The voices grew louder.

"- let a thing like that slide, warden! He attacked a guard!"

"It wasn't intentional! Bronski wasn't even the target."

"Any prisoner who strikes a guard gets solitary!" the first voice insisted. "If we don't enforce the rules-"

"There are rules governing humane treatment. Like not beating prisoners unconscious-what is it Andrew!"

"I'm sorry, sir, these really need your approval before I can transfer them."

"All right, let me see them."

Minion leaned against the wall of the aquarium to hear better. There was the ruffle of pages turning, the creak of chairs as bodies shifted in their seats. Someone sighed heavily. There was the sound of a pen scribbling across paper.

"Thank you, Mr. Parker," Andrew said. He came out of the warden's office and, to Minion's disappointment, closed the door again. The voices that drifted out were much quieter.

Several minutes later, the chief security officer came out of the warden's office.

"I'll see to it, John," he said. As he passed Andrew's desk, he glared at Minion, then strode over to the tank. Minion fluttered nervously into a corner.

"You want to see your little prince again, you better behave yourself," he said in a low voice.

Minion blinked at him in silence. _What's he think I'm gonna do, stuck in here? _Minion thought. S_plash water on the carpet?_

With a final glower, the man left.

John Parker came out of his office. "Would you mind making some coffee for us?"

"Sure thing, warden," said Andrew.

While Andrew went to the cupboard, Parker pulled a chair over to the aquarium and sat down. He rested an elbow on one of the arms and rested his chin on his knuckles. He stared at Minion so long that the ichthyoid began to get uncomfortable.

"You're supposed to keep him out of trouble, Minion," he said quietly. "That's the deal. I've just about had to beg one of my best men not to turn in his resignation. I am not happy. It seems the guards feel that Blue gets special treatment, and they are resentful."

"You should use his proper name," Minion muttered.

The warden's face darkened and he let his arm fall. "Why? You don't. It's all 'Sir this' and 'Sir that.' Why don't _you_ ever say his 'proper' name?"

Minion sniffed. "Wouldn't be proper," he said primly.

Parker muttered something unintelligible and slumped back into the chair. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "He's going into solitary for a week,- and even that's going easy on him, it should be two- after he's released from the infirmary."

"I want to see him," Minion said.

Parker shook his head. "In case you haven't noticed, Minion, this is _your_ solitary confinement." He narrowed his eyes. "That's the point. No social contact."

"So what does that bully get, a raise?"

"George Bronski will be suspended for a week. The man had to have three stitches, if that interests you at all. When he comes back, he will be transferred to the night shift. Bailey, the one who kicked you, is getting a week's suspension too."

Minion swam about until he faced the wall. He was actually a little surprised that the kick-happy guard was getting disciplined as well. It was hard to get a good sulk going when the warden was being so darn fair-minded and everything, but he managed.

The warden pressed his lips together. He had the impression he was being given the silent treatment. He'd seen the boy as he was taken to the infirmary. He did not like the look of those bruises. He wanted to fire Bronski outright, but there were rules and procedures to be followed. George Bronski had not been suspended before, and there would have to be an investigation. He sighed.

"I'll keep you informed on his condition." The warden stood up with a scrape of the chair.

The phone rang and Andrew answered it. Parker stared at the wall. Finally he said "Maybe, in a couple more years, maybe we can look at some kind of work release program." He stopped and chewed thoughtfully on his lip.

_Excuse me if I don't hold my breath, warden,_ Minion thought. _I'm not going to watch my master grow old in this place._

Out in the hall, someone shouted in the distance. They seemed to be getting closer, judging by the rising intensity. Both warden and assistant looked around at the door. If Minion had external ears, he would have perked them up.

"Minion!" the voice called. "Miiiiiiiin-yuuuuuuuuuun!"

A grin spread over Minion's face. He swam excitedly around the tank, nearly slopping water over the sides. _"_It's him. It's him!" he squeaked.

* * *

_There you have it. Please review! My muse thrives on feedback._


	2. Chapter 2

_"When life hands you lemons, squirt someone in the eye." -Cathy Guisewite_

* * *

Stepping Out

Chapter 2

Megamind slowly regained consciousness in the infirmary, to some kind of horrible booming noise. He focused and realized the noise was one of the guards loudly describing the scene in the license plate assembly room. The man's voice pounded his head with every syllable.

"-practically runs right into Bronski, so he decks 'im, POW." Megamind flinched. It felt like his face was in a vise.

"He's awake, Doc," the guard shouted cheerfully. Megamind wished the man would shut up.

The doctor came to his bedside and gently pried open one of Megamind's eyes, shining a penlight into it. The other eye was swollen shut.

"How many fingers do you see, son?" he asked quietly, holding up two fingers. Megamind was too demoralized to even make a joke. "Two," he mumbled.

"Should be seeing quadruple the way Bronski clobbered you," boomed the overly cheerful guard.

"Are you president of the Bronski brown-noser club, seriously, that's the sixth time you've said his name since we got here," Megamind shot back.

There was a short, heavy silence.

_Did I say that out loud?_ Megamind wondered. The guard, Iverson, narrowed his eyes. _I guess I did,_ he thought miserably.

"Where's Minion? Why isn't he here?" Anxiety made his voice tight and strained. Iverson snorted. Megamind willed himself not to look at him. He remembered, vividly, the sight of Minion tasered, the robotic suit crashing, and Minion spilling helplessly out of his containment unit onto the floor. And that guard, Bailey, kicking the little ichthyoid into the table leg.

"He's in the aquarium, son," the doctor said, glancing at him. "I'm sure he's fine."

"How do you know?" Megamind asked. "Did you see him? He probably needs a doctor."

Dr. Curtis sighed. "No, I didn't see him."

"Then how do you know?" Megamind couldn't keep the shrillness out of his voice. "Can't you call the warden and ask?"

Iverson snapped, "Geez, don't blow a gasket. He was swimming around in that bucket all right when I saw him." No one was rushing to the phone. This seemed to be as much reassurance as he was going to get.

The doctor gave Megamind an ice pack, and he carefully placed it over his face with his left hand. The doctor asked if he felt up to trying to walk. Megamind nodded. He managed to take a few shaky steps with the help of an orderly. He glanced up and saw Iverson smirking at him. Megamind straightened up and shoved away the orderly's arm.

"I can walk," he said stiffly. "I'm ready to go back now."

Dr. Curtis frowned a little but only said, "Well, you don't have a concussion. Suit yourself. I'm going to give you something for the pain. Sit down." Megamind flopped down on the bed again. "Can I have a mirror?" he asked. Dr. Curtis handed one over. Megamind gazed blearily at his features. A great reddish-purple bruise spread across the lower half of his high forehead. His left eye was completely swollen shut and another bruise and a cut marred his left cheekbone. Compulsively he examined his jawline but it was as smooth as ever. Rats. Still no beard.

"Roll up your sleeve, son." Megamind looked up to see Dr. Curtis busying himself with a little bottle and a syringe. He gulped at the sight of the needle. Iverson sniggered at this reaction and nudged Smith, the other guard. The doctor looked up sharply. "You men may wait out there," he said testily. Iverson scowled, but they turned to go out to the waiting room. Megamind stuck his tongue out at their departing backs. Iverson turned at the last second and caught him in the act. Megamind could almost hear the man mentally filing this latest insult away for perusal. He sighed. It was going to be a long walk back to the cell block.

"Try to relax your arm, son, it'll hurt less," said Dr. Curtis. Megamind squinched his eyes shut until it was over.

Dr. Curtis walked Megamind to the waiting room. Megamind's stomach clenched in dread at the thought of the hostile guards waiting to walk him back to his cell. He almost asked if he could stay in the infirmary overnight but he needed to see Minion for himself.

The doctor was writing on a form. "I'll send a memo to your work supervisor excusing you from any duties for the next five days, Blue. You'll need to take a long rest...is that really necessary?" he asked Iverson who was cuffing Megamind's hands behind his back.

"Absolutely, doc," Iverson drawled. "Don't bother with that memo. This one's headed for solitary."

Dr. Curtis blinked. Megamind felt as if the air had solidified in his lungs. The hole. He'd never been sent there before. Dismay must have shown on his face, because Iverson smirked and said "Don't cry, kid, it's only for a week."

"I see," said the doctor. He patted Megamind on the shoulder. "Take care, son."

* * *

They were hustling him along at a pretty good clip. Megamind dazedly tried not to trip. The painkiller sloshed gently through his veins. Iverson kept jabbing him in the back at unexpected moments and he stumbled sometimes. Once after a rough jostle, Megamind lost his grip on the ice pack and it fell through his fingers.

"Hey-"he said, half-turning, but Iverson spun him around and forced him to keep walking. His partner began to bend over to pick it up, but Iverson snapped, "Come on! I should have clocked out of here half an hour ago." The ice pack stayed where it had landed. The sheer unfairness of it all made Megamind's eyes sting and the breath catch in his throat. He gritted his teeth and concentrated on keeping his chin up. Any sign of weakness would bring nothing but ridicule.

The prison was doing a bang-up job hiring heartless sadistic goons these last few years.

The guards and prisoners that once looked after him, that had raised him, were drifting away. Some guards left for other employment, or retired, except for Al Kopecki, who apparently had opted for an early death. He had a stroke right there in the guards' break room and died on the way to the hospital, the prison infirmary not being up to snuff. Some of his prison uncles were transferred, or released on parole (though a number of these parolees showed up again for another round of hard time). Or, like old Al, died, though generally in rather more violent ways.

There were plenty of newcomers who seemed to see it as their duty to push him around. He was getting into more fights as he tried to keep from sliding right to the bottom of the heap. Minion was a great help, there.

But Minion couldn't always help. Like last month, when the ball and socket joint in the robot suit's left hip developed a serious crack. Megamind stored it away in the mechanic's bay until he could get it replaced, and carried Minion around in his containment bowl, like he always used to do. That same day Justin Henkler tried to "noogie" him. Megamind fought him off, but there must have been a bet going, because another meat-head, Freddy, tried to noogie him at the lunch hour. It turned into a shoving match, with Minion rolling around on the floor trying to trip Freddy up. Then it became a ruckus, or possibly a fracas, and finally Megamind had no choice but to dump a food tray over Freddy's head.

The food fight engulfed half the cafeteria.

The guards didn't find out for sure who started it, or Megamind might have found out a lot sooner what solitary confinement was like, but they made an educated guess, and spread the blame around. After everybody was hosed off, the whole cell block was pressed into service on the clean-up crew, guilty and innocent alike.

Once sort of a mascot and all-round ward, Megamind was now looked on more and more as a nuisance, shunted off onto whatever work crew would have him. He wasn't so welcome anymore, like a puppy that had the audacity to grow up.

The hole. Whose idea was that? There was nothing to do in there. Every detail in the hallway, every light fixture and doorway, stood out in sharp relief, as if his mind were frantically sucking in as many images as possible before it was banished to the darkness. A whole week. He'd go crazy. There was a pain somewhere above his stomach that produced curious sensations, as if his body couldn't decide if it should collapse or float away. Becoming violently ill seemed another possible option.

The hallway shifted. He shifted too. He rebounded gently off Smith and veered sideways, like a marble obeying the laws of Brownian motion, and almost tripped over the other guard's feet. Iverson cursed and yanked him back onto a more or less straight trajectory.

He needed to see Minion. He had to know if he was all right. He sure wasn't going to ask permission, though. These bozos would undoubtedly take great delight in denying his request. No doubt it would inspire Iverson to new heights of obnoxiousness.

They were quite near the administrative offices, just two hallways down. He swallowed the lump in his throat, took a deep breath and bellowed "Minion! Minion can you hear me!"

"Shut up," Iverson snapped, and tried to hurry him along. Megamind lunged against their restraining hands and nearly broke loose. He succeeded in dragging himself a bit closer to the adjoining hallway.

"Minion!" he shouted. "Miiiin-yuuuuuuuun!" he shouted again, and strained, listening. He kept shouting.

"Shut up!" Iverson said again, but his voice had an anxious pitch to it. Doors were opening and curious personnel were poking their heads out. Normally a quick punch to the kidneys was Iverson's usual response to this sort of resistance, but he didn't quite dare, not here. There were an inconvenient number of witnesses. And the alien kid was barely half his size. Definitely wouldn't look good.

Minion's voice drifted out into the air. "Sir, I'm here, Sir! I'm here!"

"You all right? You okay?" Megamind shouted. His voice echoed.

"I'm okay! Are you okay Sir?"

"Never better, Minion," Megamind shouted as they leaned on him and pushed him past. "Don't you worry Minion! I'll get you out of there. I'll get you ooooouuuuuuut!"

"Come on, pick him up," Smith said anxiously. They grabbed his elbows and lifted. It hardly needed both of them. Either of them could almost have picked him up and stuck him under an arm. His feet kicked at the air for a second.

Success! Now he knew for sure that Minion was alive. But he wasn't going to meekly walk off into that solitary confinement cell without at least a little token resistance. At the stairs he braced his feet against the railing.

Iverson was trying to kick his foot loose without actually looking like he was kicking, when the warden spoke.

"What's going on here, gentlemen?"

Like scuffling children caught in the act they all turned around at once. Megamind landed on the floor again.

"Bringing the prisoner to solitary, sir," Iverson said, jerking his shoulders back with military precision. Megamind rolled his good eye.

"Would it be possible to do it a little more quietly?" Parker asked.

"They tried to push me down the stairs," Megamind piped up.

Parker looked sharply at the dumbstruck guards. Smith stammered "B-b-b-b-b-but-but-" in a motor boat sort of way. Iverson's mouth opened and shut like a landed fish.

"We did not!" he blustered indignantly. "We weren't-I wouldn't-"

"They threatened to beat me up! They took away my ice pack," Megamind said, almost delirious with glee. There was a murmur of disapproval from the gathered personnel. One of the social workers pushed her glasses firmly up her nose and scowled at the guards, as if she were preparing to give them a piece of her mind.

Parker tried very hard not to sigh. Nobody could create a scene like Megamind. There was hardly any situation he couldn't make worse.

"Everyone get back to work," the warden ordered. "Now! I will handle this. Go on." Gradually the audience dispersed. Parker walked close to the boy, forcing him to look up. His bruises looked even worse under the harsh lighting of the hallway. He frowned at the cuffs; those hardly seemed necessary, but he wasn't about to reprimand the guards in front of the boy. Not now. Megamind stuck out his chin and tilted his head for maximum insolence.

Maybe the chief of security was right. He was too easy on the boy, because he'd been forced to grow up in this place. Normally such a thought would have swamped Parker with guilt. This time he squelched it.

"You have to stop this," the warden said.

"Stop what?" Megamind asked, shrugging. "Breathing? You'll have to be more specific."

"The fighting ends now. Every scuffle will result in a longer stretch in solitary each time. Minion may be in that tank for good. Got it?"

Megamind's smirk faded.

"It wasn't my fault. Henkler start-"

"I don't care who started it. The fighting ends," the warden repeated. "You want Minion to spend the rest of his life in the aquarium?"

There was no sound except for Megamind's breathing. But he didn't speak. After a moment the warden nodded to the guards.

"Take him away."

They saluted, and escorted Megamind down the stairs.

* * *

Parker did not feel any sense of victory whatsoever. After reading the same document for the third time he gave up. It was almost the end of the day anyway. He was careful not to look at the aquarium on the way out.

He would not tell his wife about today. The doctor had warned that Joyce mustn't hear anything that might upset her.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Too soon, Megamind and his escort were at the final flight of stairs. The walls were a dull gray, to ramp up as much despair as possible in the inmates. The florescent lights, rather than lighting the way, mainly made the shadows gloomier.

They approached the solitary cell block. The door guard gave Megamind a quizzical look.

"So what's he doing here?"

"Parker's fed up," Iverson said smugly. "Guess he ain't the warden's pet anymore."

"You catch the game on Sunday?" Smith asked the door guard.

"Naw," the man said. "I worked a double shift."

"Didn't miss much. The Lions played like crap."

Megamind was brought to the solitary confinement cell. The door was unlocked, the cuffs were removed, and Megamind was shoved in with, he thought, rather unnecessary force, but nobody asked his opinion.

"They oughta fire that quarterback."

"It's the offense. Quarterback can't do anything if they don't protect him."

The door slammed shut. The voices and footsteps of the guards faded. Megamind almost felt hurt.

_That's it? Not even a "So long, maggot?" _ Shoved in the cell almost as an afterthought. And couldn't they just _tell _him to get in the damn cell? What was up with all the shoving? It was depressing. His eyes adjusted to the dim light creeping in under the door. There was little enough to see. Four walls, a floor mat with no blanket or pillow, and a toilet in the corner that gently perfumed the air. He stood stiffly in the middle of the room, rubbing his sore wrists, and then he went over to the mat and sat down. He wrapped his arms around his knees and hid his face in his arms. Gradually he stopped shaking and his breathing steadied. He rubbed his uninjured eye with his wrist and wiped his nose on his sleeve. For a moment, he was glad that Minion couldn't see him like this. Then he wished he were back in their cell, with a notebook open on his lap, pen busy, the two of them grousing about the nitwits they had to deal with all day. His stomach hurt a little less, to make room for the headache.

His rapid metabolism was burning through the painkiller already. Or maybe a lot more time had passed than he realized. Wasn't it time for supper yet? He wasn't hungry but it would provide a distraction.

It took a village to raise a child. In Megamind's case, it was done by various able-bodied prisoners and guards, the warden, and a committee. The warden and his wife were, technically, his legal guardians. Megamind supposed someone had to be; perhaps the burden had landed on the Parkers by default. The committee occasionally came around to interview him and keep tabs on his 'progress,' which was code for "just checking to see if you've blown anything up lately."

_You want Minion to spend the rest of his life in the aquarium?_

That was bad enough. But it didn't sound like Parker was only talking about Minion. Megamind groaned and hugged his knees harder.

They would never let them out. Occasionally, there were mutterings about further education, or finding him some sort of outside work program, but nothing ever came of it. Or if they ever did let him out, it would be on a leash. They'd probably keep Minion for insurance. _Behave yourself, or your little fishy friend gets it._

* * *

He remembered that last disastrous day at school, when he was six, after he triumphantly set off the paint bomb and got sent home for good. Certain that he had finally unlocked the secret of his destiny, he announced to the other prisoners that, when he grew up, he would be the baddest of all.

This did not produce the smiles and affirmations he imagined. Instead, they scolded him, told him he screwed up, that school was an opportunity he'd thrown away.

Old Joe was especially perturbed, almost hysterical. Megamind still remembered Joe warning him about the Feds, and how they were always watching, how he had to keep a low profile and not act up all the time, or else they would come and take him away. It had scared him straight.

The Feds were a very effective team of bogeymen. He hardly dared even _think _of life on the outside. For years.

* * *

Megamind was suddenly furious at himself. The Feds, the Feds! Keep your head down kid, or the Feds are gonna come and get ya! In a surge of energy he launched himself to his feet and paced back and forth.

He was so gullible. It was just one of those lies grown-ups made up to keep children from misbehaving. Even if Joe had really believed it, it didn't make it any less a lie. None of his other prison uncles ever took him aside and told him that Joe was nuts. No suspicious men in dark glasses ever came around asking about him, or tried to get him transferred to some suspicious facility. Ever.

He should have thought it through. Or researched it. There were ways of finding things out. He'd been so gullible. Long after fear of 'the Feds' faded, he'd been left with a nagging fear of life on the outside, a vague feeling that people were out to get him.

He had it right the first time. If nothing else, it couldn't possibly be his destiny to waste his life away in prison, matching wits with lunkheads, waiting to see if the authorities would let him out.

Well. He didn't need to wait for them to let him out. He could leave. He could take Minion and go.

He stopped in the middle of the floor. He could leave. The thought terrified him almost as much as the thought of never leaving at all, but it was invigorating. He began pacing again, almost maniacally, breathing hard.

_I can do it. I know I can. With Minion I can do anything._

However.

If there was one thing his brief time at school had shown him, it was that he and Minion stood out like a couple of aliens who were the last survivors of their planet stuck in a world of over-grown, barely civilized savages. Like a couple of very sore thumbs indeed.

If they broke out, no, _when_ they broke out, there would be someone after them for sure. Many someones. Heavily armed lawmen, to be exact.

He would have to outsmart them. He could probably do it with his brain tied behind his back. Then there was the little matter of Wayne Scott. Wayne was an alien too, but he looked human. At least he fit Earth's idea of what a normal human looked like, if normal included a boy who looked like a 25-year old weightlifter and was already taller than most everyone in the entire Midwest.

What set Wayne apart was his super powers. Super strength, super speed, the power of flight, and invulnerability. A year older than Megamind, he was already making a name for himself out in the city as a crimefighter and hunter of fugitives. Several men were in prison right now, thanks to him.

Wayne couldn't really be totally invulnerable, could he? Everyone had weaknesses. He knew something about Wayne's powers, from TV interviews and newspaper articles, and from personal experience from their brief shool days. Well, he would outsmart him, too.

He smiled. Now that he'd put his mind to it, all sorts of possibilities were presenting themselves. Finally tired again, he sat down on the mat.

_ I shall liberate my old dehydrator gun. _ The warden had confiscated it when he learned of its existence, shortly after he was kicked out of school. In truth, he'd been glad to hand it over. At the time he was ready to do anything asked of him if it meant he could keep under the Feds' radar. Having the dehydrator gun was asking for trouble, the warden said. At the time Megamind thought that the warden was making a veiled reference to the men in black, but now he knew the warden probably was worried that some prisoner would take it and use it to escape. Megamind smiled. Some prisoner sure would use it for escape now.

He would employ a bit of strategy. When he got out of this hole, he'd be the epit-_tohm _of meek. There was plenty of time to think, to plan. There wasn't anything else to do. And perhaps there would be time for a spot of rev-_ahnge_, before they left.

* * *

Megamind was released from solitary the day after Christmas. He was a model prisoner. He continued to display the slightly evil smirk guaranteed to mock and annoy everyone within range, (total meekness, he felt, would have excited comment), but he did what he was told and stopped needling people. They let Minion have his robot suit back. Walter Schmidt, the head of security, advised against it, but Minion was always so useful when things needed to be unloaded or stacked up; reluctantly he agreed, with the understanding that the threat of being banished to the tank for good might be enough to keep both Minion and his ward in line.

One afternoon Justin Henkler dropped a heavy box of laundry detergent on his foot and hopped around wailing. Miraculously, Megamind failed to utter any sort of comment whatsoever. He glanced up, then went back to folding sheets.

Sid nudged Lenny. "You see that? You see that?" he said.

Lenny sighed irritably. "See what? Nothing happened," he said.

"That's what I mean! Blue didn't say nothin'. You think Bronski knocked some sense into him or somethin'?"

Lenny stared at the alien kid thoughtfully. Megamind was stacking the folded sheets. Now that Sid mentioned it, he was awful quiet lately.

"Dunno," he said. "Maybe he's coming down with something."

New Year's Eve came and went.

The only excitement occurred when several small personal items went missing from some of the cells. There were a lot of complaints from angry prisoners. That sort of petty theft could cause massive unrest, so the guards conducted a search. Everyone was surprised when the stolen items were discovered behind Justin Henkler's cot. Especially Justin Henkler.

Life became very exciting for Justin. So exciting, in fact, that the guards were forced to place him in solitary for a time, until the resentment against him tapered off.

They escorted Justin past Megamind and Minion's cell, giving them a good view of Justin's newly-blackened eye. His mouse-brown hair was even more frazzled than usual.

"Hi," Minion said. Justin glanced up.

Megamind leaned against the bars, examining his nails and smiling a little. He shook his head slowly. Justin glared at him.

"Whatever were you thinking," Megamind said. He stepped back, laughing, when Justin kicked at the bars, setting off a tremendous clang.

"Don't you know stealing is wrong?" Megamind said, chuckling.

"You little cockroach! I'm gonna squash you!" Justin screamed as the guards hauled him away.

"Have a nice vacation," Megamind called.

* * *

No one noticed the old microwave in the salvage bay had been gutted. No one noticed that a car that had been brought in for spare parts in the mechanic shop had lost its computer chips, shock absorbers and most of its wiring. They figured the parts had been stripped before it was donated. And when one of the ancient computers in the prison library stopped working one day, the librarian didn't bother trying to get it repaired. He hated all this new-fangled technology anyway. The old index cards had worked just fine for him.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's notes: Yes, they are** still** in the dang prison, but not for long._

* * *

_"Whenever I have to choose between two evils, I always like to try the one I haven't tried before." -Mae West_

* * *

Chapter 4

Bailey was so insulted at being suspended just for kicking a damn fish that he quit. George Bronski didn't blame him, but wasn't about to do anything that would further jeopardize his own job. His employment record was rather spotty, and he was determined not to get fired for once.

He worked the night shift now. The chief security officer, Walter Schmidt, basically told him it was the night shift or nothing. "It's better if you have a little less direct contact with the prisoners," he said, narrowing his eyes at him. Bronski knew what the man meant. It was typical. They didn't appreciate his efforts to keep order. That freak kid needed to be taught a lesson. The twerp acted like he owned the place and looked down his nose at everybody. They even let him have a servant, like he was royalty.

Even now the freak acted uppity. One morning he was clocked out and heading home when he spotted Megamind in the work crew headed for the laundry, and the kid actually smirked at him. He might've even winked! Bronski bristled and barely restrained himself from going to have a private word with that smart-aleck. But he knew he was on thin ice as it was. Another incident might get him fired.

There was no trace of any bruise left on that blue face. He heard that the freak healed fast but hadn't believed it.

* * *

His co-worker Robinson was snoring in his chair at the desk. The door to the guard room creaked open an inch and he started up out of his snooze guiltily. Bronski glanced up, then went back to the paper.

Robinson rubbed his eyes, said "Hey, what are you-" there was a brilliant flash of light and Robinson was covered with a crackling light blue sheen. He seemed to fall in on himself, as if he were being sucked into a hole, and then he was gone. A small glowing cube fell to the floor. Bronski's mouth slowly fell open and stayed there. He stood up, staring stupidly at the cube, and turned to the door as it was thrown fully open. He stared in disbelief at the weirdly glowing gun, held in a slender blue hand at the end of an orange-clad arm. The freak was standing in the doorway, smiling an evil smile. Minion filled the space behind him.

Megamind pretended to do a double take. "Why look, Minion. It's Mr. Bronski!" he exclaimed.

"Well, how 'bout that," Minion said, smiling like a shark.

Bronski gripped the edge of the counter at the bank of monitors. "Y-You killed him, you frea-"

Megamind strode into the room and aimed the gun at his head.

"What was that?" he said sharply.

Bronski nearly climbed backwards over the counter.

"I-I mean-mean-Megamind..." he said, wheezing. The gun wavered and shook a little. Too much for Bronski's comfort level. Bronski really really hoped Megamind's trigger finger didn't slip.

"That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Megamind said cheerfully. "Now don't you worry about your buddy there, George. Mind if I call you George? He'll be right as rain as soon as-well, as soon as a little rain falls on him."

Minion chuckled, in the approved manner of aspiring henchmen everywhere. One of his hands shot across the room, impossibly elongated, and took the gun from Bronski's holster. Bronski stared in amazement as the arm reeled back in, with a whirring noise like a fishing line. Minion broke the gun in half.

Bronski didn't believe Megamind for a second. "You killed him. You vaporized him," he said hoarsely.

Megamind frowned. "No no no, I dehydrated him. You know, de-hy-drate? If vaporization had occurred, there would have been, you know, vapors." He tilted his head a bit, considering his audience. "That's another word for steam, George. He's not dead. He is merely taking a little rest. He can be reconstituted-that means 'changed back', by the way,- by the application of some liquid, preferably water." He shrugged and stepped closer. "Anyway, I just stopped by to say good-bye, thanks for the memories, that sort of thing, and I wanted to give you the chance to get a look at how well I'm doing."

The gun barrel was pointing upward directly under Bronski's chin now. Bronski was standing on his toes. Megamind smiled broadly, tilting his face from side to side, waggling his eyebrows. Bronski stared at him wide-eyed.

"See? I'm all healed up. No scars or anything. Got the key card, Minion?" Megamind said.

"Got it, sir."

Megamind stepped back a bit and Bronski settled fully on his feet again.

"Don't you feel better now? I know I do. Time to say good ni-"

Bronski shrieked "Don't kill me!"

Megamind grimaced and covered one of his ears with his free hand. "Could you scream louder? I can still hear a little out of this ear. Buck up! Take it like a man." He pulled the trigger, there was a brilliant flash of blue-white, and a lingering cry of "NOOOOOoooo..." Another cube dropped to the floor.

"Oh, that was wicked, sir," Minion chuckled. "I thought he was going to wet himself."

Megamind grinned and blew smoke away from the gun barrel. His hands were shaking with nervous excitement. They'd taken out five guards. Pulling the trigger on the first one had been extraordinarily difficult, even though he knew it wouldn't harm him. Once he fired, he knew there was no going back. What else could they do? Reconstitute the guard and say "We were thinking of leaving, but we changed our minds. Mind letting us go back to our cell and pretending this never happened?" There was only one way forward. He and Minion were Getting Out.

Escaping the cell was easy. The checkpoint doors were a bit trickier. He wasn't sure his key-o-matic would disable them. The outer doors were on a separate computer system than the cells, but he hadn't wanted to waste time constructing another key-o-matic. It was a simple enough problem to solve. He just took the guards' security cards before dehydrating them.

It was a shame they couldn't say a proper farewell to everyone that deserved it. But really, it was for the best. Otherwise they'd be stuck here for another decade, launching vendettas.

"All right, Minion, now for the post-it notes." It was only fair to leave the guards a clue.

* * *

John Parker woke up abruptly at the sound of the phone ringing. He squinted at the digital clock. It was 5:01 am. Joyce was due to come home from the hospital tomorrow...no, today. It couldn't be the hospital, could it? He hoped it wasn't serious news.

_Who am I kidding?_ he thought. _At this time of day it's always bad news. It better not be Danny asking for money. _

He groped his way across the bedroom and out into the hall. He found the light switch and picked up the receiver.

"Hello."

For a moment there was silence, then a voice said "Mr. Parker?" Whoever it was sounded unacceptably gleeful for this hour of the morning, Parker felt.

"Yes."

"Mr...John...Parker?" There was some giggling in the background.

"Yes," he repeated, annoyed. He could tell this was some prank but he didn't slam the phone down right away. The voice was muffled, yet there was something familiar about it.

"The little bluebird says, better check your cages. A couple of pidge-ee-yons have flown the coop! Ha ha ha ha aha aha ha!" Parker winced and jerked his head away from the phone. The line went dead.

_Well, that didn't sound suspicious at all,_ he thought, grimacing. He hung up, rummaged around in the end table's drawer for the list of emergency numbers, and was reaching for the phone to call the night watch at the prison when the phone rang again. He snatched it up on the first ring.

"Parker here, what is it?" he asked tersely.

The man on the other end of the line was somewhat taken aback at the warden's abruptness, as he hadn't expected Mr. Parker to be hovering over the phone at this early hour, but he rallied.

"Sorry to wake you, sir, but there's been a break-out. Megamind and Minion."

"All right," Parker said, rubbing a hand down his face. "I'll get dressed and come over as soon as I can." _Little bluebird indeed._

"There's more, sir," the guard said. "Five guards are missing, too."

* * *

When Parker drove his car through the prison gates it was still dark. He parked the car and went into the building. As he passed the first checkpoint he could hear the muted roar of the inmate population. All it took was one insomniac to notice the guards bustling around, one bored troublemaker to wake every other prisoner and alert them to the thrilling fact that two of their number had escaped. They'd have to keep the entire facility in lock-down for a day or two, and then the guards would have to deal with outbreaks of insubordination for some time.

Roberts, the head of the night watch, greeted him and fell in step as the warden walked swiftly along the hallway.

"Is Schmidt here yet?"

"He called and said he's on his way now. Couldn't get his car started."

Parker nodded. The security chief's car was famous for its remarkable ability to break down just when it was most needed.

"How long has it been since the prisoners were last seen?"

"They were present at the one a.m. head count. We think maybe it's been three hours since they skedaddled. You were informed about our missing men?"

Parker nodded. "There isn't any sign of them at all?" he asked. "Could they have been taken hostage?"

Roberts shook his head. "I don't see how. Nearly impossible to carry off five grown men without some kind of ruckus, even for Minion, I should think."

They entered one of the inner hallways. The sound of men shouting and arguing grew louder. He came upon a group of guards, all of them yelling at once.

"Where are they, then?"

"Of course they're not bombs, stupid! There aren't any timers."

"We already looked everywhere."

"They gotta be here, some closet somewhere!"

They hadn't noticed the warden yet, the noise level was so loud.

One of the guards, McClosky, came around the corner of a connecting hallway. He was holding a pile of glowing cubes in his arms, and a pitcher in one hand.

"Stand back," he said excitedly. "I've got the water!"

As soon as the warden saw the cubes he knew what happened. He could see a post-it note was stuck to one of them. Parker couldn't read it at this distance but he guessed what it said: Just add water. Followed by a smiley face. He looked around. Most of the men present were newer employees; none of them knew about the dehydration gun.

McClosky put the cubes on the floor and took a few steps back with a determined look on his face. There was a controlled stampede as everybody took refuge around the corners, even the man who'd been so sure they weren't bombs.

"Gentlemen," Parker said weakly, in the tones of one who knows he's up against the inevitable, "there's really no cause for-"

"Oh, warden! Just stay back, sir. We'll handle this," one of the guards said gallantly. Parker sighed and clasped his hands behind his back as everybody else crouched and peered around the corners. McClosky braced himself, flung the water at the cubes and ran for it. There were flashes of light, and five disheveled and bewildered guards appeared where the cubes had been. Simpson reappeared standing on his head. His limbs flailed wildly for a second, before he crashed against another dazed man and they both landed in a heap. Bronski was still screaming his head off, but then stopped and looked around in confusion. Everybody began talking at once, as the guards helped their comrades to their feet.

"That's some trick."

"You okay? Are they okay?"

"Let go! I'm not hurt."

"He had...the freak had a ray gun." The newly-reconstituted guard caught sight of Parker and said, "I mean...Megamind had a ray gun."

Parker overlooked the use of that unsavory nickname for the time being. The poor man had just been changed back from a cube, after all.

"It's called a dehydration gun," Parker told them. "He invented it when he was about six. I've been keeping it in my office safe. He can dehydrate stuff with it, people too. I'm not sure what the limit on it is, but whatever or whoever he shoots gets compacted into a cube, and gets turned back when water is added."

He hesitated. They were all staring at him as if he'd grown a second head. He turned his attention to the immediate matters at hand. The men looked all right, if rather damp, but maybe they should be examined by a doctor, just in case.

* * *

After the debriefing, Parker tromped wearily up to his office with Schmidt, who had arrived in a cab.

"Why'd they have to pick now to escape?" the security chief said, shaking his head. "January. Plenty of vicious weather ahead. Dumb kids."

Parker stopped on the stairs. "Kids," he said, giving Schmidt a puzzled frown.

Schmidt looked back. "Yeah. They came here at the same time. That Minion didn't talk at all for two years. He probably learned to speak the same time as the boy."

It annoyed the hell out of Parker that Schmidt should have been the one to make this thoughtful observation. Half the time Schmidt acted like matters would be significantly improved if Megamind were simply dropped into a pit and sealed in.

That old familiar pang of guilt squeezed Parker's chest. For the first time he wondered how old Minion was. Was he really dealing with two teenagers here? He thought he did a good job treating Minion decently, like he was a person instead of an animal, but now he wondered. He'd taken Minion for granted, like everybody did. Minion always took on the role of caretaker so readily, been little more than Megamind's shadow for a long time. That began to change as his robotic suits grew bigger and he wasn't so easily overlooked, but it was still easy to disregard him out of habit. Did his kind mature faster? Parker would have to satisfy his curiosity later, when the fugitives were apprehended.

Parker wondered if he should ask the police to check the homeless shelters, then dismissed the notion. He sincerely doubted that they would try taking refuge there. They couldn't possibly blend in. He supposed Megamind could manage it, barely, if he completely covered himself, but there was no way Minion could disguise himself. He creaked when he moved. Sometimes he even rattled.

"Make sure the police know they are runaways, Walt. _Runaways._ I don't want to get them back full of bullet holes."

Schmidt nodded carefully. "I'll try to convince them, John, but if he's got that gun, it might make it more difficult. And you know what they'll have to do to survive."

Parker sighed. Stealing. Breaking and entering. The legality of holding them in prison, when neither had been convicted of anything, had always hung over his head, boulder-like. Legal issues probably would not be much of a problem now.

Parker's assistant was opening and slamming cupboard doors. He whirled around as Parker and Schmidt walked in.

"Warden," he cried. "He replaced all the cups."

Parker said, "Andrew, it has already been a long morning. Please do not make me guess. Who did what now?"

"It was Megamind, I know it! He got in here and took all the plates and coffee cups out of my cupboard and left these-these tea sets behind. What are we going to do for coffee breaks?"

_Maybe a little less coffee would be a good change for you,_ Parker thought as he walked over to the cupboard. Andrew sometimes got all worked up about...he stopped, and stared into the cupboard in confusion. On the shelves were a few little stacks of plates and cups, looking like they'd come from a doll's house. Carefully he reached out, picked up one of the plates, and examined it.

"These aren't tea sets," he said. "These ARE our plates. They've been shrunk."

Schmidt gave a snort of laughter and shook his head ruefully.

"Shrunk?" Andrew was outraged. "That's ridiculous!" He threw his hands up in the air.

Then Parker saw it, his own cup that his wife had given him, turned into a perfect miniature. The words "World's Best Warden" were just visible. Parker felt a vein begin to throb in his forehead.

* * *

_End notes: My husband, who is better at thinking up pranks, came up with the idea for shrinking the plates and cups. Coming up next: Life in the big city! Is it all its cracked up to be?_


	5. Chapter 5

**_Author's notes: The saga of teenage Megamind continues. I don't want to pin myself down with a specific year, but I will say that at the time this story takes place, digital cameras and cell phones were just beginning to have a major impact on consumer culture. And it has always struck me as strange, that certain giant sporting goods stores have fudge shops. All temperatures given are in Fahrenheit. _**

* * *

Chapter 5

"Police have released sketches of the aliens that escaped from Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted, as no current photographs exist," the anchorwoman on the TV said.

Gordon paused in the living room, his toothbrush in hand and mouth full of toothpaste. The picture on the TV showed a sketch of a young man who looked like a stereotypical big-headed Martian from an old sci-fi film.

"John Doe, aka Megamind, is fifteen years old. He is about five feet three inches tall, has _blue_ skin..." Gordon could almost hear her put the word in italics, "...and has green eyes."

Gordon started to brush his teeth again as he walked back to the bathroom. _Shouldn't think she'd have to say his eye color,_ Gordon thought with some amusement. _The guy's __**blue**__, fer cryin' out loud._ As he rinsed and spat, he could hear them saying something about a robot, but he couldn't really hear over the sound of the water running. By the time he emerged, the morning news team had moved on to the next item. There was a camping and fishing expo at the civic center this weekend.

"Well, Stacy, looks like they're getting geared up for the big camping exhibition down there."

"That's right, Gary! I'm here live at the Metro City Civic Center with..."

Gordon turned off the television. He locked the apartment and took the stairs instead of the elevator.

The sky was still dark. Gordon had gotten up extra early on this chilly winter's day so he could get in a full three mile run before work. He was quite proud that he'd been able to keep up with his New Year's resolution. He jogged in place for a moment, then did a few stretches. He begun his run slowly.

He would run through the downtown area first, then maybe over the bridge and through the park. He thought about that newscast. He heard rumors there was an alien kept in the prison but it wasn't something he thought about too much. It was probably all nonsense, like all that stuff about that Wayne Scott kid. Gordon had seen news footage of Wayne Scott flying around, lifting trucks over his head with one hand. He was just waiting for the day when it was all exposed as a hoax.

He rounded the corner at Sixth Avenue. As he was jogging past Mercer's Grocery he heard a squeal of tires. He looked over his shoulder. A Ford Taurus had barely made the turn. Alarmed, Gordon backed up against the store as the car roared down the street. As it passed the store it leaped the curb, sailed into the air, and impaled itself on top of a fire hydrant.

Heart pounding, Gordon ran up to the driver's door and pulled it open.

"Hey, man, are you all -GAH!" Gordon backed up so fast he tripped and fell. He stared, mouth open and eyes wide, as the blue alien lurched unsteadily out from behind the steering wheel.

"Perfectly all right," the blue boy said hoarsely, staggering a bit. "That was a little better, I'd say. What do you think, Minion?"

Gordon drew in his breath sharply as the passenger door opened and some THING clambered out. At first he thought the strange man was wearing a silver helmet, but then he realized it was a fishbowl with a...catfish? On top of a robot body. The thing blinked at him. Ice water poured through Gordon's limbs.

The blue man said,"I think there's something wrong with the gas pedal, like the last-" Gordon screamed. The scream came out of some ancient, primal place that had no room for logic or reason. The alien flinched back against the car and screamed. Even the thing in the bowl screamed. Gordon scrabbled backwards, crab-like, then finally found his feet and ran.

Megamind, gasping, held a hand clasped to his chest, and watched the man flee.

"Geez," Megamind said weakly. "What's the matter with him?"

"I dunno," Minion said a touch irritably. These driving lessons were taking a toll on his nerves. And they'd gone through four cars and he still hadn't gotten a chance to drive. "Maybe watching a car get smashed up right in front of him got him all upset. Sir."

"Yes, I suppose so. Rather long delayed reaction, though." Megamind paused for further thought. "Seemed more like he was scared of us."

Minion sighed and looked around. There were some lights in the surrounding windows. A few more flicked on. Probably the noise from the crash woke people up.

Megamind noticed the lights coming on too. "How far would you say it is back to the hideout?" Their current hideout was a large shed on the back lot of a gardening center, closed for the winter. It was secluded and well-hidden, and had the added benefits of being dark, dirty, and freezing.

"About twenty blocks."

Megamind kicked petulantly at one of the tires. Driving shouldn't be so difficult. He'd seen enough movies and TV shows to know how it was done, and Scunner taught him that all you needed was a screwdriver and a cordless drill to get most vehicles started. The hot-wiring lessons were done on the sly; many of the prisoners disapproved of such a young kid learning the tricks of the trade. Starting a car turned out to be entirely different from actually moving it down the street.

A cab drove past. Megamind scowled as the cab drew level, and then the cab went on its way at a rather faster pace. Megamind narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

"Sir, it's getting late."

Megamind glanced at him, then turned to look after the cab again, disappearing around the corner. "Very well, Minion. Time to retire." A Chevy Impala was parked nearby. Megamind pulled out the tools. Then, because time was pressing, Minion smashed the Chevy's window and Megamind got to work.

* * *

One of the many things Megamind learned over the course of their first days of freedom was that walking took forever. The driving attempts tended to draw a lot of unwanted attention. After a crash they ended up on foot again anyway. Sometimes they were forced to flee the scene before they could steal another vehicle. The blocks and the miles stretched out before them and ate up their precious time. Despite the long winter nights, it seemed like they never had time for anything fun. They were always searching for food and shelter, and for safe places to clean up. More like they were scavengers, instead of steely-eyed fugitives from justice.

And it was freezing. Megamind couldn't remember being so cold in all his life. Back at home, no, back at the prison, he corrected himself, he'd casually gone out to the courtyard for exercise along with the rest of the men, braving all kinds of weather. But then-and this, he belatedly realized, was the important bit- he always got to go back inside again after an hour or two, where it was warm. It was a bitter truth to discover he was used to the constant temperature of the prison building. He never stopped shivering. His fingers and toes ached. His face hurt. He was sure his ears would freeze right off before winter was over. The leather jacket he'd lifted from a guard's locker as they were leaving was not cutting it. It looked cool. And it kept him cool, too.

By the fifth night, Megamind was no longer loudly declaring that the cold didn't bother him a bit, and Minion sensed the time was ripe.

The sun was setting. Megamind was awake, still curled up in the sleeping bag.

"Should be a little warmer tonight, Sir," Minion said.

There was a subtle shift in the huddled mass as Megamind lifted his head.

"Oh?" he said, in a voice completely lacking in concern.

"The radio says it'll only go down to 15 degrees," Minion said. "And the wind chill will only be about 0 to 5."

A wind gust rattled the shed's roof.

"That is good news," Megamind said, hunching further in. His breath huffed a cloud into the frigid air.

Minion waited a few seconds, then said, "You know, Sir, I've been thinking..."

"Yes?" Megamind said quickly.

"Well, I was wondering if I could ask a favor." He paused.

"Ask away, Minion."

"Well, I was just thinking, I would feel a whole lot better, and I know it's asking a lot, it's just that it's been so cold..."

"Are the temp regulators working all right? Your water isn't starting to freeze, is it?"

"Oh! No, no, I'm fine, I hardly feel the cold at all!"

Megamind sighed. "That's good, then."

"It's just that I would feel a whole lot better if I could get you a new coat. Just if you want to," he added quickly, "I mean, it would mean a lot to me, then I wouldn't be so worried about this cold, and, well, it would, you know, make me feel better if I got you a coat, something with a hood. They say a lot of heat escapes from the head."

Minion held his breath as Megamind considered the suggestion. The shed creaked.

"Very well, Minion," he said, graciously bestowing the boon. "You may find me a new coat. If it makes you feel better."

"Oh, thank you Sir! We'll go to Miller Outfitters. They've got the best stuff."

* * *

"Hey, there's a fudge shop on the second floor!" Megamind said excitedly. His voice was loud in the silent sporting goods store. He swung his flashlight around and quickly located the escalator.

Minion was already blocking his path. "Coat first, Sir," he said cheerfully.

He searched through the racks until he found an over-sized, dark green parka with a hood that fit over Megamind's large cranium.

Megamind stared at his reflection with wrinkled brows. The fake fur around the edges of the hood made him feel like he was in a nest. It was heavy. The sleeves covered his hands, which Minion seemed to think was a bonus. The hem went down to his knees.

"There! Warm enough?" Minion asked.

"This thing's a tent," Megamind complained. He pulled in his arms and legs, and ducked his head inside until he was completely hidden from sight. "See?" he said, poking his head out again.

"Let's roll the sleeves up. There. Now your hands are free. Better? You have to wear it, Sir. It's got thinsulate."

Megamind groaned. Minion was in full mothering mode. There was no stopping him.

"We have to go with this size, Sir. A smaller size won't have a big enough hood. It's the only way to keep your head covered. I guess I could shorten it. Do you think another store in this mall has sewing machines? We should look."

Minion hoped so. Megamind looked like a kid who'd gotten into his dad's wardrobe. All of his clothes needed alterations. Everything hung on him like a potato sack.

* * *

Megamind had to admit, he was a lot warmer in the new coat. He hated the hood, though. It made him feel like such a dork. He often refused to put the hood up, out of sheer stubborness, unless the only other alternative was dying of hypothermia.

Minion took a coat for himself too, so he wouldn't be so noticeable. Sadly, his coat seemed more to emphasize his blocky robotic frame rather than hide it, but it was useful enough for short periods of time.

* * *

Whenever a new inmate arrived at the prison, their usual reaction upon seeing the blue boy and his minion for the first time consisted of a slight widening of the eyes, followed by frowns and suspicious looks that generally only lasted a few weeks, until the new man got used to them and began treating them like everybody else did.

The public's reactions were radically different. No prisoner ever actually screamed or pointed or exhibited any other sort of un-macho behavior upon learning of their existence. This was something that happened on the streets on a fairly regular basis, though.

The only came out at night, when there were fewer people around, but such a large city never really slept. Occasional encounters were unavoidable. People usually backed away or fled from them. They had to keep moving, since within a few minutes of a chance encounter, they tended to hear sirens, closing in.

It took a few nights for them to realize where the sudden two a.m. crowds were coming from.

"This must be the 'bar scene' we've heard so much about, Minion," Megamind said philosophically, as they observed a bar patron throwing up in the gutter. He shook his head. Some of the guards and prisoners talked proudly about how sick they'd gotten from alcohol at one time or another. Megamind had chalked it up to bragging, though it seemed a strange thing to be proud of. Drinking until you made yourself sick seemed counterproductive, but that appeared to be the goal.

Sometimes, especially if it were a group, people would bunch together for protection, and make excited comments, like, "Do you think they see us?" and "It's the invaders!" and "Quick, get the camera." Sometimes people even followed them, forcing Megamind to bring out the de-gun, or sic Minion on them. That tended to make these pests scatter.

He began to observe the types of camera they were using. There was something about the way people were holding them that piqued his interest. Sometimes they held the cameras up in front of them as if they were afraid of getting the things too close to their eyes. He and Minion cornered one of these would-be photographers.

He plucked the camera from the man's hands and turned it over. There was a screen on it. He drew in his breath.

"Minion, it's digital," he said excitedly. "I've read about them!" Glee lit his face. He beamed at his captive. "Do you know what you have here? Do you? Unlimited potential!"

The man swallowed. The cold metallic hand gripping his arm was sobering him up faster than a gallon of coffee. The fish was glaring at him in what seemed to be a hungry way. His buddies had all taken off, to get help. Presumably.

"Do you like it? You can have it," he said, nervousness making him generous.

They took it.

* * *

Finally, Megamind had enough of the gawkers. He and Minion were looking for another car to steal when he realized they were being followed. He looked back over his shoulder. Sure enough, four people were trailing behind them about half a block away. He could hear them talking and giggling, their voices echoing against the buildings of the silent street.

"Let's just get out of here," someone said.

"Don't be such a wuss, Doug," a woman responded. "They're not real. It's just a mask."

"No, it's true, they say there's gonna be an invasion any day now," another woman said, sounding more excited than alarmed.

"You believe anything," the second man scoffed. "I happen to know for a fact that he's the result of a lab experiment gone wrong. It's happening more and more these days."

"That's a new one," Minion muttered darkly. He threw them a dirty look.

"It's not real! I'll prove it!" the woman said. "Hey!" she shouted. "Hey you!"

Megamind stopped. This kind of thing was wearing thin.

"Angie," one of the men said, grabbing at her arm. Angie shrugged him off and began stalking toward them, her heels clicking on the sidewalk.

Minion growled and moved to block her path but Megamind put his arm up to stop him. "I'll take this one, Minion." He recognized a bully when he saw one, even if this one happened to be wearing high heels and a skirt. He wondered briefly how she could stand the freezing wind that poured relentlessly through the streets.

Megamind moved to stand in the light of the nearest street lamp. He tilted his chin up and glared at her as she approached. Angie's determined sneer began to fade the closer she got. When she was within a few feet her swagger was gone. Her eyes darted uncertainly between Megamind and the silent, glowering bulk of Minion who had also come into the light. Seeing them close up, with the street light illuminating their features, it was painfully obvious that the blue face in front of her was not, in fact, some cheap mask as she'd believed. She could hear the squeaks and creaks of the fish's armor, and even see the occasional bubbles rising through the fishbowl's water. She licked her lips nervously and said, "Uh..."

"Is that it?" Megamind said snidely. "That's the best you can come up with when confronted by a member of an alien race? A mere syllable? I tell you, Minion, the citizens of this city never cease to disappoint. I hope," he said, turning back to her, "this is real enough for you." He smiled and tugged at his cheek. "This ain't no mask, lady." Angie shifted uneasily, clearly wanting to retreat but also not wanting to look like a total idiot in front of her friends.

Megamind drew the de-gun. Angie hastily lifted her hands. There was a murmur of alarm from the other three. "Get back to your friends," he ordered. Angie backed up. He walked with her, turning on his most evil smirk. With Minion advancing as well, he was sure they were making an impression on these fools.

"Hand over your purses and wallets." They were slow to comply, thrown off balance by this change of fortune. He pointed the gun at the first man in the line-up. "You first."

"It just turns you into a cube," the other man muttered, who knew so much about lab experiments. "I saw it on the-" he flinched and put his hands up when Megamind aimed the gun at him.

"Then you can be first," Megamind said. "Let's have that watch, too."

* * *

Later, in a back alley, as Megamind emptied out the cash and credit cards, Minion asked, "Sir, are we going to mug everybody who crosses our path?"

"If they don't show some respect, we will. I'm sick and tired of getting treated like a freak show," Megamind said, tossing an empty wallet into the dumpster. "From now on, anybody bothers us, they're getting the full treatment. Fear and intimidation, Minion, will be our motto. People aren't going to bother us if they're afraid of us."

"If you say so, Sir."

* * *

After they stole another car they parked (or crashed) behind a gas station/convenience store. Minion was operating the key-o-matic this time. Megamind was too busy hopping from foot to foot.

The key-o-matic, which looked like a cross between a pair of salad tongs and a stapler, was giving Minion some trouble. It was too small for his large fingers.

"Get it open already!" Megamind groaned.

Minion fumbled and finally got a grip on the trigger. "You know, there's a perfectly good alley right over there, Sir."

"Perfect if you're a dog, or a homeless vag-grahnt. Just get the door open!" Megamind said, bent almost double.

_We're living in a shed, _Minion thought. _ Doesn't that __**mean**__ we're homeless? _He sensed that this observation would not go over too well, so he didn't say anything. He put the device to the lock, as if he were going to do some serious stapling, and activated it. An electric charge crawled over the metal, tumblers turned, the security system went dead, and the lock unlocked. Minion pushed the door open. Megamind shoved past him and dashed into the restroom.

After the emergency was taken care of, he buckled the belt over his jeans. They were too big and flapped in the breeze, which drove him crazy. Minion even had to put extra holes in the belt so it would fit. He looked at the mirror. He was filthy.

_ This must be why people flee in terror,_ he thought, grimacing. He pushed up the sleeves of his zippered sweatshirt and scrubbed his hands and arms. He lathered his head and face, leaning well over the sink so the water wouldn't run down into his clothes. After he straightened up he noticed with annoyance that there weren't any paper towels, only a hand dryer. He shook his arms vigorously and swiped as much water off his head and face as he could. He was about to finish drying off with the hand dryer when something in the mirror caught his eye. He leaned over the sink to look more closely.

"Minion," he said.

"Minion," he called more loudly.

"What?" came Minion's distant reply.

"Minion! Get in here!" he shouted.

Minion punched the restroom door open. It crashed against the wall, swinging hopelessly by one hinge, the massive dent sealing its fate. Minion darted around in his bowl, wildly looking around the room.

"WHAT! What is it!" he yelled.

"I have a BEARD! Look look look!" Megamind said, jabbing excitedly at his jawline.

Minion huffed out a breath in relief. He walked over and leaned down to examine Megamind's grinning features. He squinted. Sure enough, a thin whisper of dust lined his jaw.

"Oh! Oh, there it is. Um. Yes. Well done, Sir!" he said brightly.

"To the shaving products," Megamind cried. He dashed out of the restroom. He hurried around the store's narrow aisles until he found the small selection of personal care items. He took all the razors, shaving cream cans and a grand total of three tiny bottles of after-shave.

"This proves it, Minion," he said grandly, dumping everything into a plastic bag. "I was right to take this course of action, to seize liberty. The air of freedom has brought maturity. I am a man, free to grow, to expand, to live!

"Now then," he said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them. "Grab that box of doughnuts, Minion. It's time to meet my driving instructor."

"Don't forget your coat, Sir," Minion said brightly, holding up the tent-parka.

"Oh, yes, mustn't forget that," Megamind grumbled.

They raided the cash register, too, because that was what you did when you broke into a place.

* * *

Nick turned the cab around and made another pass up Bleaker Avenue. He was about to call it a night. The fares had pretty much dried up by now. It was a weeknight and there weren't too many people out. He caught a glimpse of someone waving to him from the corner. Two people in hooded coats. Looked like a couple. The smaller figure was bouncing up and down.

He pulled over to the curb. If he had been paying attention he would have noticed that, despite the cold, the big man's breath was not fogging the air. As the couple got into the back seat there was a puzzling creak of metal coming from somewhere.

"Cold one, isn't it?" Nick said automatically, invoking the standard conversation starter. Neither person answered. They closed the car door. A metal fist shot out of the man's sleeve and demolished Nick's CB radio.

"Hey!" Nick yelled. The man pulled the hood back and revealed the floating, grinning Minion.

"Just take it easy, now," Minion said. Nick scrabbled at his door handle, trying to get it open. Heavy hands grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back down into the seat. "Easy does it. No one's going to hurt you." Nick was having trouble breathing.

The smaller person pulled his hood back and Nick was not at all surprised to see the blue alien he'd seen on TV.

"Nice work, Minion. And it certainly is a cold one," he said, smiling.

"Hey, just take the money, there isn't much there..."  
Megamind slung himself over the back of the seat. Nick's eyes swiveled nervously to the de-gun dangling casually from his black-gloved hand.

"What's your name, misterrr...Nick Conner," Megamind said, catching sight of Nick's license on the dashboard. "You know me?"

"Uh, yeah, I've seen you on the news. You're Megamind. People have-have sent in photos."

Megamind's grin widened. "Great. We really must get a television, Minion. Now, contrary to what you may have heard, I am not here to rob you. I need something much more valuable."

Nick couldn't guess what that might be. "What?" he asked shakily, certain he wouldn't like the answer.

"Education. Driving lessons, of course." Megamind cried, raising his hands.

"You want to learn to drive?" Curiosity made him turn a little more towards his captors. As he looked at Megamind's eager, young face a thought occurred to him. "How old are you?"

"I'm...twenty-five," Megamind said, voice cracking.

There was a muffled snort from Minion, quickly cut off.

Megamind glared at him. "Did you have something you wanted to say, Minion?"

"No, no, not me, Sir."

"Because it sounded like you were about to say something," Megamind said.

"I-I was just clearing my throat, Sir," Minion said.

"Well, let's hope you don't have any more attacks of throat dryness. So, how about it, Nick?" Megamind said, turning back to the front. "I'm the sort who doesn't really care much for following the rules, but first I need to know what the rules _are_. In exchange I promise not to take your money, you get to keep your cab, and...um...Minion won't rip your arms off."

"Sir!" Minion looked shocked.

"What?" Megamind snapped, exasperated. "Too harsh for your sensibilities? How about... Minion won't clobber you on the head. I hope that meets with your approval," he said to Minion sarcastically.

Minion sniffed. "Yes. Yes, it does," he said with hurt dignity.

_How can I refuse?_ Nick thought. "All right, mister-"

"Megamind," said the alien. "Just Megamind."

* * *

The cab flew down the freeway, considerably over the speed limit. Megamind gripped the steering wheel, grinning like a maniac. Nick clutched the dashboard and door handle with a white-knuckled grip. Minion was hanging out the window. He couldn't feel the wind but somehow the landscape whipping by seemed so much closer and more exciting when he hung out the window.

The radio blared. A Led Zeppelin song came on.

"Hey, I like this one!" Megamind said, turning it up louder.

Nick hoped the lesson was almost over.

They whooshed by an SUV. Minion waved at them, giving them his toothiest grin. Then he noticed a woman in the vehicle holding a cell phone to her ear.

Quickly Minion rolled up the window. He should have noticed the sky was getting lighter. It was morning. Traffic was much heavier. They whizzed by more cars. Minion reached over the back of the seat and turned off the radio.

Megamind glanced at him in surprise. "What did you do that for?"

"Sir, you better slow down and find an exit ramp. Sun's up. Look at all the traffic. That one lady back there had a phone."

Megamind grumbled, but he eased off the gas.

"And I'm sure Nick would like to go home now," Minion said, glancing at the cabbie. Nick relaxed a fraction and dared to hope he would get out of there in one piece.

Megamind took the next exit and drove down a side street. They were passing some apartment complexes that had seen better days. There was block after block of squat brick buildings, all of them exactly alike. Megamind glanced briefly at Nick. He supposed he didn't really have to dehydrate the cabbie. That seemed a tad ungrateful. But he would probably have to take the cab, despite his promise not to steal it. They were miles from their hideout and needed a vehicle. Nick had been so helpful, though, explaining the rules of the road, and describing how to handle different sorts of road conditions. Because of his instruction, Megamind now knew that a yellow light did not, in fact, mean "floor it," which was the impression he'd gotten from his observation of other drivers.

Then he saw it. A white van was parked at the curb. A yellow boot was attached to the front wheel and there were numerous parking tickets and flyers tucked under the windshield wipers.

Megamind pulled over. He stepped out into the chilly dawn and walked around the van. There was just a little rust on the left fender. He peered in the window. It seemed to be full of garbage, but that could be cleared out. And the keys were in the ignition! He could see the key chain with ZZ Top embossed on it. He drew the de-gun, aimed carefully at the yellow boot, and fired. The boot was successfully cubed, leaving the tire intact. Megamind sighed in satisfaction.

"Our new wheels, Minion," he said as Minion climbed out of the back seat. He walked up to the cab where Nick was sitting in the passenger seat and knocked on the window.

"Thank you for your assistance, Nick. As per our agreement, you get to keep your cab and your money. You," Megamind gestured broadly at the street ahead, "are free to go."

Nick didn't need to be told twice. He practically dove into the driver's seat and took off with a squeal of tires.

"Bye!" Megamind smiled and waved. "Can you believe it, Minion? Just when we needed a ride, too. If that's not destiny, I don't know what is."

"We should get different plates for it. That cab driver might've seen them," said Minion.

"I should go get my driver's license, huh?" Megamind laughed, smacking Minion's chest.

"Yeah, your best idea yet," Minion said dryly. "Do I get to drive now?"

"Very well. Driving us back to the hideout can be your first lesson." He held out his hand and Minion gave him the tools. Megamind proceeded to get the van door open. "And by the way, Minion, it does not work, discussing threats in front of the victim. Think about how that looks. How can they take us seriously if we argue over consequences?"

"Sorry, Sir," Minion said meekly. "It kinda caught me off guard. It won't happen again."

"I mean, it wasn't as if I _really_ expected you to rip his arms off if he refused," Megamind said. He shuddered. "Ick."

* * *

**_Next chapter: A touch of angst. And a sighting of a long-awaited foe._**


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's notes: I have included a few phrases in Spanish, German, and Chinese. My apologies for any mistakes I may have made._

* * *

_"You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm." __ -Colette_

* * *

Chapter 6

One good thing about working the graveyard shift at the all-night gas station was that there was plenty of study time, Ronnie reflected. Despite being the victim of two robberies in the past six months, Ronnie hung in there. Gas stations were always getting robbed and he needed this job. His scholarship didn't cover everything. Right now his biggest regret was taking the algebra course. It was killing him.

He glanced up as a van pulled into the station, then looked wearily down at the text book. After a few minutes the bell over the door gave a little ring. When he saw who had come in, he straightened up slowly and held onto the counter with both hands, as if that would save him.

The little blue guy in the big coat smiled brightly at him and proceeded to walk through the store, grabbing items off the shelves and tossing them to his clanking companion.

"I'll have that, and one, no, two of these and some of those. Better just take the whole box, Minion."

Ronnie glanced towards the back of the store, where the exit beckoned, but he knew he wouldn't make it. They were coming toward him already. Megamind irritably shook back one of his sleeves and adjusted his black leather gloves. _Here comes robbery number three, _Ronnie thought, half-raising his hands. He wondered when the gun was coming out.

Minion laid a package of beef jerky, two bottles of pop, and an open display box of candy bars, one-third full, on the counter.

"Now then," Megamind said briskly, pulling a wad of cash out of his pocket, "we have all this, and thirteen gallons of gas, so this should be more than-"

Minion thunked a bag of apples and a bag of carrots on the counter. "These too, Sir."

Megamind gave him a pained smile. "Yes," he said through gritted teeth. "Of course. _As I was saying_, this should be more than enough to cover it."

He slapped a small stack of bills down and leaned forward. Ronnie didn't dare move. "You can keep the change," Megamind said, raising his eyebrows and giving Ronnie a very deliberate nod.

Ronnie looked at the money. The one on top was a twenty. The next one had a definite twenty-ish look to it as well. There were at least four more underneath that one. He stared at them.

Megamind frowned. "Don't you speak English? Habla usted espanol? Sprechen sie Deutsch? Ni hui shuo hanyu?

"I don't know about Chinese, Sir. Try Swedish."

Ronnie managed to say "I'm English. I mean American. I mean I speak English."

Megamind smirked. "How nice for you. I plan on visiting this establishment again, as long as things remain _quiet_ and _undisturbed_, if you know what I mean." He winked. "And there is bound to be more compensation for you, so long as you continue to provide stellar service."

"Huh?" Ronnie wasn't having trouble with algebra class for nothing.

Megamind closed his eyes and sighed hugely. He opened his eyes again. "Don't tell anyone you saw us..." Megamind pointed at Minion and himself several times. "...and I will give you more money..." he rubbed the thumb and fingers of one hand together "...the next time I come here. Did I use too many big words that time?" he said sarcastically.

"Uh, no, no. I mean, sure, okay, I guess," Ronnie gurgled.

Megamind's smile came back. "Excellent. Well, ring it up."

Hesitantly, Ronnie managed to add everything in. "Uh...$27.58."

Megamind was opening the beef jerky. Minion put the other items in a plastic bag. "Like I said, keep the change. You got questions three and four wrong. Y equals 4x plus 17, and a equals 23b plus c squared. We're off!" Megamind turned and strode out the door. Minion gave Ronnie an impassive look and followed.

Ronnie stared at his smudged notebook paper, then grabbed his pencil and quickly wrote down the answers before he could forget.

After the van drove off, Ronnie examined the bills. There were seven 20-dollar bills. He quickly stuffed five of them into his pocket. He put the rest in the register, carefully counting out the change and pocketing that as well. The security cameras were usually never checked unless there was a robbery or some other trouble, but if questioned he could claim he was too scared to refuse the money.

Well, they hadn't robbed the place anyway, had they? This was just a tip, that was all, and he said he'd be back, with more. This could really help with books and stuff.

He looked at his text book. Megamind had solved two problems in his head, from an upside down book. Ronnie decided to bring in his chemistry homework next time. Maybe there would be some help there, as well.

* * *

"Did you really need to bribe him? You know you're going to have to give him that much every time, Sir," Minion said.

"A little money greases the wheels," Megamind said cheerfully. He turned the volume up on Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit" blaring from the radio, nodding along to the music. "I can always get more. There's plenty!" Spending money gave him a new thrill. He'd never bought anything before! They'd taken money whenever they came across it, but they stole whatever else they needed, too. There seemed to be no need to try to buy food or clothing or tools. The money was just gathering dust, really, and beginning to pile up.

* * *

Stolen food continued to be their main form of sustenance. Megamind might not have minded throwing more money around, but it was simply too much of a hassle to try to bribe the entire staff at a restaurant.

Sometimes Megamind and Minion ambushed delivery guys as they were about to get into their cars, or they would spot a delivery vehicle and follow them around until they reached their destinations, and then rob them. Some restaurants began adding extra delivery charges, for emotional wear and tear on the drivers.

Megamind was almost giddy over the overwhelming variety of food: Chinese, Italian, Indian, Mexican, fast food.

Luigi's was the best. This time they stopped some customers as they were leaving the place.

"I'll take that," he grinned at the stunned faces, deftly handing the loot to Minion. He turned and saw a couple of men a little further along the sidewalk. One of them was quickly putting a camera back in his pocket.

The men stepped back warily as he marched over to them.

"Go on, take another," he said, smirking. They glanced at each other. Megamind gestured impatiently. "The camera, take another photo. Go on." Hesitantly, the man produced the camera again. Megamind grinned and struck a pose, hands on hips, chest stuck out.

"Send it in to the news so I can be sure to see it. I'll be able to tell if you're any good as a photographer or not." He swept past and on down the sidewalk.

"What happened to being sick and tired of getting treated like a freak show?" Minion muttered.

"Oh, this is different," Megamind said airily. "Besides, they can put me on TV again."

_Never should have let him get that portable TV,_ Minion thought.

A police car pulled up outside the restaurant a block behind them. Megamind immediately slipped into the nearest alley, Minion close behind.

"They showed up pretty fast," Minion said as they ran. "We might be hitting this place too often."

"Point taken, Minion," Megamind said, accelerating.

Megamind was rapidly getting into the best shape of his young life. By necessity, he'd already mastered the sprint, but it was impossible to run very far in the prison. Pretty quick, you ran up against a locked gate or a wall, or, worst of all, the person you were trying to get away from. Outside, there were endless opportunities for increasing one's stamina. Running for more than a few blocks used to leave him wheezing. Now it was the work of a moment to run down the alley, over the fence, across the back lot, through the laundromat, hide behind the dumpster and cut back to the van.

* * *

The garden shed was history. Megamind couldn't stand the cold anymore, even with a mountain-durable sleeping bag. Their new hideout was the basement of an apartment building. It was noisy with the clanking and rumbling of the water heater, air vents, and furnace, but it was considerably warmer. And riskier. Anyone might come down there anytime. There were no storage facilities or laundry rooms (those seemed to be on higher floors) but a superintendent or some maintenance worker might come down there for some reason and because of this possibility neither of them slept very well.

If they could have moved into the basement of the library, they definitely would have. They'd spent a number of pleasant nights there, among the wealth of books and magazines. The library basement was well-used; much was stored there and it looked as if it were visited regularly, so moving in was out of the question.

One night Minion found Megamind in one of the library offices, staring intently at the computer. He looked over his shoulder.

"Is that an ad for a store?" Minion asked, looking at the list of electronics.

"It's the Internet," Megamind almost whispered.

Minion could barely drag him away before dawn.

* * *

One morning they returned to their hideout to find a family of four hovering over their belongings. Megamind recognized them as homeless, he'd seen enough of them by now, what with the way they seemed to be wearing every item of clothing they owned. There were a few garbage bags slumping dejectedly around them, too, no doubt containing the rest of the family's stuff. The man was shaking out Megamind's sleeping bag. A cloud of dust wafted off it. They all turned as Megamind and Minion entered, with typical reactions.

The man flung the sleeping bag down as if it had caught fire. The woman gasped and grabbed the child next to her around the shoulders. The smaller child in her other arm sniffled and blinked.

"We weren't taking your stuff, man, I had to get something to keep her warm, Marie's sick, we gotta keep her warm, there was nobody here, look, just let us leave, we won't say anything," the man babbled. He had his arms raised in the universal 'let's everybody stay cool, now,' gesture.

Megamind had pulled the de-gun out of his coat pocket automatically, but he wasn't aiming it. His elbow was bent, and he held the gun up, pointing it at the ceiling. His surprise at finding them there faded into confusion. It was barely 5:00 in the morning. What were they doing here at this hour? Did the homeless shelter kick them out? Had they just gotten evicted? He wondered which one was Marie, but there wasn't time for an interview. Should he try bribing them? But he knew no matter how much money he gave them he would never feel safe here again.

He should dehydrate them immediately. Then they could have their place back. He could re-hydrate them later that evening, but he couldn't trust that they wouldn't blab about running into the fugitives. Their hideout was ruined.

He should still dehydrate them. At least he and Minion would have one more day here. But he hesitated. Minion shifted behind him and cleared his throat as if he were wondering when Sir would get on with it.

Megamind looked around the frightened faces. In his mind's eye he could see how it would go. He'd shoot the man first, he was standing in front, and as the glittering cube fell the woman would scream, or maybe she'd attack him, she looked pretty wild-eyed, and he'd shoot her too and the children would cry...

"Get our stuff, Minion, we're leaving," he said.

Minion silently shoveled their clutter and clothes into the backpacks. When he went to pick up the sleeping bag, Megamind said "Leave that. They can use it."

He regretted his generous impulse immediately. Fear and alarm shot across the faces of the adults, quickly replaced by blank features that hid their true feelings and he knew that they would sooner touch the blanket of a smallpox victim. A hot iron ball settled in his throat.

The sleeping bag lay where it had fallen as he walked to the stairs.

By unspoken agreement, Minion took the wheel of the van. Megamind slouched down in the passenger seat and crossed his arms over his stomach. Minion pulled away from the curb and drummed his fingers on the wheel. Megamind could tell that Minion kept glancing over at him but he stared stonily out the window.

Minion said, "I think we should go to that theater. They're only open on the weekends. I don't think anybody even goes in there on Mondays and Tuesdays."

Megamind shrugged his thin shoulders. They could drive around all day for all he cared.

The rest of the ride was a silent ordeal.

They entered the theater through a back door. _And that's how it would be,_ Megamind thought furiously, striding down the dark hall. _For the rest of our days we'll sneak in through the back._ Already he felt like he knew every damn cellar, basement, back lot, and alleyway in the city. They might as well move into the sewers and get it over with. The only way forward was down. It was a bad day when you even had to make way for some miserable wretches who didn't...didn't even...

His vision blurred. He walked faster. He found the restroom almost by accident and went in, hoping Minion wouldn't follow. He got the water turned on just in time and leaned on the sink. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt the tears run down his nose. Fortunately it didn't last long. The ache in his throat eased.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and wiped his eyes and face. He began to pace around, running his fingertips over the smooth tiles and stall doors.

He was just tired, that was all. He didn't care what a bunch of random strangers thought. He paced faster, fuming. He wasn't sad or depressed, or, or, or homesick. Those children. If those kids hadn't been there it would have been easier. He almost never saw anyone younger and smaller than himself. On visiting days at the prison_, _he had long made a habit of spending the day in the library or the mechanic's bay, so he wouldn't accidentally run into any of the families that came to visit the other inmates.

He certainly wasn't homesick. Far from it. He didn't miss anybody, not Harry or Sid or Lenny, and definitely not...

_Unbidden, a memory surfaced. Blue was four. He'd been crying. He sat on the warden's lap, sniffling and hiccuping, holding Minion's bowl on his own lap. Mr. Parker had his arm around his shoulders. With his other hand he gently wiped the tears off Blue's face._

_ "It's okay, bud," Mr. Parker said. "That man's not coming back. Minion's all right, isn't he?"_

_ Blue managed a shaky smile and held Minion up for inspection._

_ The warden smiled back. "Yeah, he looks okay to me. Everything's all right."_

Megamind stopped his pacing, and stared blankly at the wall. It was odd, but he couldn't remember what had led up to this incident. What was...

His face twisted. He struck a stall door so it crashed open. It didn't matter. He'd been upset, and the warden had dried his tears. Big deal. Now Parker gave him nothing but lectures and looks of resigned dismay and thought he was nothing but a troublemaker. Everybody had these expectations.

_ Even Minion has expectations. I'm the one in charge. He depends on me to make the right decisions. All this pressure! _Megamind thought, with growing wrath. _He probably thinks I made a mistake._

Megamind slammed out of the restroom.

Minion took a couple steps back. Megamind's gaze could've burned holes through concrete.

"I suppose you think I should have shot them," Megamind said, jabbing an accusing finger.

Minion twisted his hands together. "Well, I-I-I, no, I didn't think that. I was kinda glad you didn't, Sir, not that you couldn't," he added quickly. "Or anything. It was just sort of...not right. Just, just not worthy. Wouldn't have been much of a challenge, eh, Sir?" Minion laughed nervously.

Megamind could already feel his anger draining away. He let his gaze travel slowly around the ceiling and ornate light fixtures. He pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"Yes," he said slowly. "I suppose it wouldn't have been very sportsmanlike, to shoot such obviously pathetic individuals." He took a deep breath and huffed it out. "As usual, Minion, you have hit on the crux of the matter." He smiled and clapped him on the arm. "Let's find the lights for this place and do some exploring!"

They spent an agreeable few hours uncovering the scenery backstage and rooting around in the costumes.

"Ooo, look at this," Megamind said, holding up a black cape with a rakish collar. He tossed it around his shoulders and clasped it. It dragged on the floor. He pulled the rest of the costume off the hanger. There was a white mask to go with it. Half a mask, anyway. He went over to the full-length mirror, cape trailing behind him. He flipped the cape off one shoulder and held the mask up.

"Why do you suppose it's just half a mask?" he mused. He liked the contrasting colors of the black cape against his skin, and the bone whiteness of the mask.

"Hmm," said Minion, looking at a wall poster. "Must be this guy here, Sir."

Megamind laughed when he saw the title. "Phantom of the Opera! Menacing."

He tried the rest of the costume on, but it was, of course, too big. After some more rummaging, he found sort of a green elf suit with tights that very nearly fit. Looked odd with the cape though, so he switched back to his regular clothes. Minion tried on the hats.

Megamind spent quite a lot of time climbing the huge curtain on the stage, then the ropes. Finally, with much effort, he managed to climb all the way up to the catwalk. He walked around on it, then tried balancing on the handrail. He nearly tripped over the cape once. Minion went into conniptions, and threatened to come up there and drag him down if he didn't stop doing that. Megamind laughed.

"I'd like to see you try!" he shouted. "Your arms can't stretch this far!" He swung on one of the ropes for a bit, then finally had pity on Minion and slid down to the stage again. The cape flared out as he descended. He swung around his arms, making the fabric soar out and around him as he dashed back and forth on the stage.

Having worn himself out at last, he made sort of a nest of the costumes and went to sleep. Minion floated down to the bottom of his containment unit and went to sleep, too.

* * *

That evening they searched the old industrial district. Megamind was determined to find a place that he could claim as his own. The area was a mix of empty lots, barely-active businesses and abandoned buildings. There were a number of warehouses in the area which were still in use, and a few small workshops. They would have to be careful not to be noticed by the employees of these places; some of the businesses had erratic work hours.

An ancient fire station was tucked away on a side street. There was a mural of an old-time horse-drawn engine painted on the side of it. The fire station was rather intriguing, and had a certain appeal, but the old building looked close to collapse. A buoyantly optimistic sign hammered to the front door declared that this was a future Historic Landmark and would be scheduled for restoration within the year. A date printed at the bottom of the yellowing, cracked sign was four years old. There seemed to be little danger that the Historical Society was going to descend on the place any time soon.

There was an abandoned factory behind it that seemed a better choice, despite the gaping hole in the roof. The floor was sound. Against all logic, it was even colder inside than it was outside, as if it were a giant freezer, but at least the factory was fairly isolated, being placed even further back than the fire station. There was a garage door in the back, accessible only by the alley. The main floor was littered with old machines of uncertain usage and a number of rusty tools.

There was also a rest room, complete with a ghastly shower. Megamind wasn't even going to think about inspecting the toilet stalls.

Trying not to touch anything, he peered cautiously into a sink. It was caked with rust and grime. The faucets were practically fossilized.

"The pipes are probably frozen," Minion muttered, but he reached out, grabbed one of the faucet handles, and wrenched it open. The faucet rattled and groaned, there was a loud clanking somewhere deep inside the wall, and a thin red trickle of water streamed out, adding to the colorful motif in the bottom of the sink.

"Urk," said Minion. He hastily forced the faucet handle closed. He and Megamind shared a grimace. Hygiene was going to continue to be a challenge.

"I think we can board up the door to this room," Megamind said, hurrying back out to the main floor.

The basement was spacious, and surprisingly free of clutter. A massive corroded furnace took up almost a quarter of the room. There were two wooden tables, a few empty cardboard boxes, and a ping-pong table. A cardboard box sitting next to it contained three ping-pong paddles and several crushed and broken balls. Megamind examined the cobwebbed ceiling and walls. There were some electrical outlets. He brightened a little. He could set up a proper work bench in here. The gardening shed, cold and dank, was not conducive to even the thought of a workbench. At the prison, he'd basically had a few shoe-box sized corners hidden here and there for various projects. Here, there was room to spread out, and no need to hide anything from nosy guards.

Consumed with survival issues, he hadn't had any time or inclination to build anything. He hadn't constructed anything since he made the key-o-matic and the ceramic shrinker back at the prison. The ceramic shrinker was a special attachment for the de-gun and, sadly, had accidentally gotten crushed when Minion stepped on it. It was just a novelty, really, only good for shrinking objects made out of ceramic, like cups and plates. He made the device to shrink the dishes in the warden's office, purely for annoyance purposes.

"This place can be our hideout, Minion," he said. "And my lab."

* * *

Megamind hacked into the power grid and discretely began siphoning very small amounts of electricity from a number of businesses and residential buildings in the southeast quadrant. It was more than enough.

The power company employees noticed a small discrepancy in the numbers, but when the readers were adjusted, the discrepancy disappeared. They chalked it up to a glitch and thought no more about it.

* * *

They always parked the van in a secret location and walked to the library. Megamind didn't want the van sitting outside the library all night.

They were two blocks away when a movement caught Megamind's eye. Someone was sitting in a car parked at the curb, just off the library's parking lot. Though the car was in shadow, he had seen the outline of a person scratching his head. With a suspicion that had become second nature to him, and without breaking stride, he slipped around the corner of the shoe store. They walked down a block, took another left, then approached from around the back of the bakery, keeping to the dark.

They had a good view of the front and north side of the library. After a moment Megamind said quietly, "You see it, Minion? Parked on that side street?"

"The unmarked car with two men in it? Or the black and white one over there?"

Megamind chuckled. "Well spotted, my scaly friend. One could hardly miss the glow of the cigarette. It occurs to me, Minion, that it doesn't take a genius to escape the attentions of Metrocity's finest. How much you want to bet there's another car somewhere in the back?"

"Hmph. I wouldn't be surprised, Sir," Minion said, and sighed. "How do you suppose they found out?"

"Oh, who knows? Maybe the warden told them I like books and they finally got it into their little cop minds that the library has lotsa books in it."

Megamind felt rather depressed. He'd been looking forward to getting some reading done. He and Minion were so careful not to leave any mess or piles of books lying around, to ensure that no one could tell someone was rooting around in the library at night. He'd been considering taking a few books along with him this time, now they had their own place.

His stamped his feet. They were getting numb. Finding biker boots in the right size had taken some doing. The boots did a fairly decent job keeping his feet warm, but it was especially frigid and damp tonight, with a light mist that wormed its way in under every layer he was wearing. At least he'd found some skinnier jeans that didn't flap in the wind.

He thought about finding a way to sneak in, right under the cops' noses, but reluctantly decided it would be too risky. Even these knuckleheads would be alerted by movement from inside the building, and the library had many huge windows. He was about to tell Minion they should be going when there was a brief flash of white in the sky. He froze.

A figure dropped lightly out of the sky and landed next to the black and white squad car. There was only one person it could be. The two cops got out of their vehicle. Even at this distance Megamind could hear them greeting Wayne Scott, boy wonder.

Minion shuffled and whimpered a little.

"Quiet!" Megamind whispered. His own heart was pounding. Did Wayne have his lousy super-hearing turned on or not? He'd read an interview a few years back in which Wayne said he could turn his super-hearing on or off at will.

"I just do it. Or else I'd never get any sleep," Wayne had shrugged and smiled charmingly, as the interviewer gushingly described it.

It was probably crap. Nobody could turn their hearing on and off. _I'll bet he just tunes out stuff he doesn't want to hear, _Megamind thought.

No, Wayne wasn't aware of them, not yet, anyway, or else he'd have grabbed them by now. But if he decided to really _listen,_ what then? Would he hear their heartbeats? Their breathing? Would he hear the water cycling through Minion's containment unit? If he decided to take a look around with his x-ray vision, they were screwed.

Wayne was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt. His youthful muscles moved and rippled in the streetlight like a prize stallion's. _He doesn't feel the cold, of course. Bastard, _ Megamind thought sourly. The men from the unmarked car wandered over. The little group talked and laughed. Now Megamind's feet were really cold, but he didn't dare move. Time stretched on and he was getting more aggravated by the second. His nose hairs were starting to freeze.

_Worst police stakeout I've ever seen,_ Megamind thought, from his vast experience of having observed exactly one stakeout. _Those_ _bozos couldn't catch a stray dog, with all the noise they're making._

After an unbearable amount of time, Wayne seemed to be saying good-bye. At last he flew off, no doubt to spread cheer and goodwill elsewhere. Megamind and Minion slumped against the wall in relief.

"I think...maybe we should call it a night, Minion," he said. "But we'll make a quick stop at a bookstore first."

* * *

_Next chapter: A dream. A cameo. And Minion attempts to have a heart-to-heart talk with Sir. _


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's notes: Hello everyone! This took a while, not the least because it's summer, and it's been pretty busy around here with the kids home all day. Not that I'm complaining! The summer started out cool and rainy, but it's getting a lot nicer. It's getting rather difficult writing about a harsh Michigan winter when the temperature is getting up into the 80s!_

* * *

_The intellect says: "The six directions are limits: there is no way out."_

_Love says: "There is a way. I have traveled it thousands of times."_

_-excerpt from a poem by Rumi_

* * *

Chapter 7

The waters of the lake were rising. Megamind hurried through the streets, the sound of his breathing loud in his ears, looking for the door. He splashed through puddles that were filling up and running together as the water began its inexorable march inland. It was ankle deep. His feet were soaked. The distant murmur of the lake became a muted roar. It was flexing its muscles, working its way up to a tidal wave. He sloshed on.

Now the water was over his knees, threatening to carry him off his feet. He grabbed desperately at the handrail and pulled himself onto the stairs. The water surged upward, pulling at him, trying to drag him back, but he broke free. He ran up the stairs and into the building.

He paused to catch his breath. He straightened his tux and opened the ballroom doors. He was greeted by a mass of colorful, whirling figures, laughing and dancing. He stepped slowly into the room. The ceiling was higher than a cathedral's, and pillars lined the dance floor. The main wall in front had a massive window, giving a breath-taking view of the moonlit lawn, and glass doors. Smaller windows flanked it. There was no sign of the flood that had driven him here.

His father stepped out of the crowd, wearing the silver outfit customary for their people.

The older man spoke, and Megamind couldn't understand a word. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're...saying...," he said. He had responded in English. That couldn't be right. He should know the right words, he should know how to speak properly, but even the few words he knew were just out of reach, like whispering in another room that he couldn't quite hear.

His father spoke again, urgently. "I can't understand you," Megamind said miserably.

His mother stepped in front of him, eyes green as his own. "You forgot your mask," she said, and blindfolded him.

"What! Hey!" he protested and snatched it off. They were gone. He pushed through the cheerful crowd in a growing panic, calling for them. The people pressed around him, the women in colorful ball gowns, the men in black tuxedos, but they were all strangers, all _aliens._

On the other side of the room the crowd thinned. A long row of empty chairs stood along the wall. A girl sat in one of the chairs, peering around the ballroom. She looked at him and her face lit up in a bright smile.

"There you are!" she cried, leaping to her feet.

He glanced over his shoulder. _There who is? _he wondered, as she reached out and grabbed his hand. She pulled him onto the dance floor. When she turned to him he automatically held up one arm to place it around her waist. She reached for his other hand and frowned.

"Do you really need that thing?" she asked, wrinkling her nose and tilting her head to one side.

He was still holding the blindfold. The mask. It had proper eye holes now, and was blue, exactly the same shade as his skin. He shrugged, and gave her a crooked smile.

"I certainly do," he said, putting it on. He spun around with her, falling into the steps of the dance as if his feet had been taking lessons without him. Part of him was in shock. He'd never held a girl in his arms before. He moved fluidly, twirling around with her like a champ. She wore a gown of white edged with gold. Her long brown hair was tied back in a braid, her bangs curved gently over her eyebrows, and there was a faint dusting of freckles over her nose. Her blue eyes sparkled.

"I didn't think you'd make it, Megs," she said.

"Neither did I. Traffic was unbelievable," he said. He felt a pleasant fluttering sensation in his stomach. Whoever called him 'Megs'? He looked into her eyes and decided that she could go ahead and call him whatever she wanted.

There was a distant cry of "Four!" and one of the smaller windows shattered as a golf ball flew in and rolled across the dance floor. An elf wearing a skin-tight green outfit climbed in the window, cursing and grumbling.

"Do you mind? I'm trying to play through here," he said testily as he elbowed his way through the throng.

"Always playing games," the girl sighed.

A shadow passed overhead, the sound of wings momentarily drowning out the music. A crow settled on a little ledge at the top of one of the pillars.

There was another cry of "Four!" Another window broke, glass twinkling and shining as the shards floated to the ground. The room was gaining a small contingent of elves, arguing about the score. Megamind tried to keep his eyes on the golf balls that were starting to litter the floor.

"This would be a lot easier if you'd take that stupid thing off," she said. She reached up to the mask. He jerked his head out of reach, and backed away from her.

"That's what you think. It's there for your protection."

She snorted. "Yeah, right! You're so full of it." She stepped back into his embrace, and they took up the dance again.

"No, I mean it. If you only knew," he said.

"You were late. You know how long I was sitting there?"

There was another fluttering of dark wings. He looked up. Crows were perched on several pillars around the room.

"I told you," he said vaguely. "Traffic was murder."

"That's no excuse," she said, but he could hardly even look at her now, the crows were commanding his attention. Every time they turned around there was another one.

He nearly slipped on a golf ball. They passed by a poker table. Minion was seated there. Wayne Scott sat next to him, looking dapper in his specially tailored tux that easily accomodated his massive physique. A strange bald man with glasses sat across from them. He held five cheese slices in his hands. He nodded and smiled at Megamind amiably.

Minion seemed to be playing with raw bacon. He smacked one down on the table with a disquieting slap. Wayne was holding Twinkies.

Wayne smiled his mega-watt smile. "Pull up a chair, little buddy," he said.

"Um, Minion?" Megamind said.

"Be with you in a minute, Sir," Minion murmured, staring intently at the bacon. The ceiling was dark with crows, cawing and fluttering.

A hand fell on his shoulder. "Would you settle down for once in your life and get in line?" the warden said. A long orange line of prisoners stood by the buffet table. At the head of the line was a man wearing a black hood. Bandoliers criss-crossed his chest and an ax was stuck through his belt. Megamind was alone, the girl seemed to have melted into the crowd. He shook the warden's hand off and backed away.

He stepped out of the light of the dance floor and into the shadows. The music was cut off as if he'd entered a sound-proof room. His chest tightened. He was afraid to turn around, but he needed to see where he was going. He turned.

The crow in the corner was huge, and monstrous. Its beady eye glinted. A dead fox lay under the crow's foot. It had to be dead. Nothing could look like that and still be alive.

The fox gave a little whimper. The collar around its neck was so tight that a thin trickle of blood ran onto the floor. The crow smiled, and struck.

* * *

Megamind sat up with a cry. Gasping he stared sightlessly into the dark and he didn't know where he was for a second. The basement. He was in the factory basement. His heart rate began to slow to something like a normal pace. There was a movement in the dark, and then Minion turned on a floor lamp.

"Sir? Are you all right?"

Megamind drew in a shaky breath. "It's all right. I just had a dream." In the treacherous manner of many dreams, the images were already fading, except for the lingering feelings of terror. The pleasant feelings he'd felt while dancing with the girl were almost gone. He couldn't even remember what she looked like now, to his chagrin. It might have been nice to retain that particular memory, but all he could recall was blue eyes and brown, braided hair.

Well, it didn't matter. It was just a dream.

* * *

After closing time, they paid a visit to one of the big stores. Megamind was scanning the magazine rack, looking for Popular Mechanics, when a different publication caught his eye. The woman staring out at him from Cosmopolitan looked as if she were caught in a storm. Her hair was blown back by a mighty wind. Her stance suggested she was prepared to either embrace a lover or punch someone out, it was difficult to say. Either possibility seemed likely. He was a bit hazy on popular culture, but he was pretty sure it was a magazine for ladies. Did women like looking at other women? Perhaps they all liked to see how they were supposed to look. Judging by the covers of the other magazines, they also liked looking at artistically arranged food and unbearably cute children.

He read the article titles on the cover. "Hottest Fashions." "Is He Cheating? Here's the Signs." "76 Ways to Please Your Man." That seemed like a lot. What kinds of ways? At the prison, one sure way for a woman to please a man was just to show up, but there were a couple of other things the men liked to talk about too. Did women really know an additional seventy-three other ways?

He picked up the magazine and thumbed through it until he found the article. The author had chosen to start with the ears. Megamind's own ears were starting to heat up. As he read, his hand idly traveled almost of its own volition up his neck. His fingertips lightly stroked the side of his neck, producing a tingling sensation. He touched his ear, and tried to imagine that it was a woman's hand that was-

Minion said, "Oh, there you are, Sir, I was-"

Megamind slammed the magazine back onto the rack, dislodging a dozen others. There was a cascade of print. He snatched frantically at the slippery pages, then gave up and let them fall.

"Just...just heading for electronics," he croaked. He stepped over the scattered magazines and quickly headed for the safety of a distant aisle.

He was sitting on the floor, examining a pile of CDs, when he heard Minion's creaking footsteps behind him. Megamind's shoulders tensed. The way Minion was walking, it sounded like a lecture. Minion cleared his throat.

"Sir, there comes a time in every young man's life when he gets certain urges..."

"Minion, I distinctly remember having a similar conversation with the warden four years ago on the very subject you are so tactfully approaching," Megamind said, wincing a little at the memory. "I do not need you to tell me about the hornets, because, and this may come as a shock to you, I haven't forgotten how babies are made."

Minion was silent for a few moments. "I think you mean the birds and the bees, Sir."

"Use whatever metaphor you like," Megamind said. Minion shuffled his feet. Megamind looked around, irritated. "What, Minion?"

"Well, it's just that _we _haven't talked about it. I just want you to know, if you ever want to talk about anything, like your feelings, I'm-"

"Feelings. What sorts of feelings!" Megamind jumped to his feet.

"Um, about, you know, girls..." Minion said, gulping.

"Which girls! The ones in the magazines, or the ones who run screaming as soon as they see me?" Megamind said, scowling.

"It might make you feel better, to talk about...about things," Minion said. "I mean, we're outside now, there's opportunities to, you know, meet people, and you're genetically compatible, there's no reason why-"

"_Meet_ people? When do we ever meet people, Minion? When we're mugging them? And don't talk to me about genetics!" Megamind snapped. "You may not have noticed, but when people see me on the street, they don't say 'Hm, there's an interesting genetic variation.' If you want to know what my _feelings_ are, then my _feelings_ are that no matter what I'm _feeling_, I am not going to meet some nice girl." Megamind flung his hands up. "What do you want me to do, kidnap somebody and ask if she'd like to see a movie sometime? I'd have to tie her up to keep her from running away." Megamind turned his back and began rummaging through the CDs as if he had a personal grudge against plastic.

Minion stared sadly at the angry, hunched back. Sir's ears were maroon from anger or embarrassment. Probably both.

His boy was growing up. He no longer shared all his thoughts and feelings with Minion the way he used to. Minion was doing his best to prepare his ward for the rigors and challenges of life, but it wasn't easy. The talk show advice to let loved ones know that you cared about them seemed to work pretty well when the guests were all sitting around in the studio, but it was obvious that Sir wasn't quite in the right mood for a heart to heart chat.

He really should work up the nerve to call the show sometime, though it might be difficult phrasing the right question. Minion tried it out in his head. _Hello, I'm servant and guardian for a teenage alien boy who is struggling with his identity, and notions of his own attractiveness to...why, yes, he's humanoid, but we're on the lam, and don't really get to meet anyone suitable...er, no one's __tracing this call, are they? _He shook himself. Maybe he should just look for some kind of parenting manual.

Megamind dumped some CDs in the shopping cart.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go get something to eat."

* * *

They set up an ambush behind the Great Wall Restaurant. Megamind could not get over his agitation and was still fuming.

_What's he trying to do, marry me off? _ he thought. _Can't he leave it alone? No woman is going to accept the giant head. _

_The inescapable blueness__,_his thoughts charged on, gathering steam. He couldn't imagine meeting girls, or getting to know anyone under normal circumstances. There were no normal circumstances. His circumstances were about as un-normal as you could get. The un-normalness rolled outward and onward, filling the world, infinite and unchanging. Sitting around in a coffee shop and chatting with a girl was as likely as jumping into the air and flying to the moon. He couldn't imagine a woman willingly coming to the hideout, other than a uniformed one.

A delivery man came out of the back door. Megamind slipped out from behind the dumpster and grabbed the car door before the man could slam it shut. He pointed the gun at him.

"Hand over the bags," he ordered the frightened man. Minion took them.

_Probably be on the run for the rest of my life,_ Megamind thought, determined to drain the bitter cup.

He hurried out of the alley. Minion crashed into a garbage can. Megamind looked back in irritation at the noise as he rounded the corner.

"Hurry up, Minion! Can't you-"

WHAM! He cannoned into somebody standing on the sidewalk and their heads collided with a bone-jarring crack. Megamind was knocked over onto his back from the impact.

"Ow," he said, staring at the sky. There was a small shriek from the restaurant's doorway. He levered himself up to a sitting position, holding his aching head. A teenage girl was sitting on the sidewalk, hand to her forehead, squinting at him. The way her mouth fell open was almost comical. She looked at the older woman standing in the doorway, who had her hands clasped to her mouth. The girl's long brown braid swayed. The pool of light from the windows illuminated her blue eyes. Megamind stared. Deja vu pinned him to the spot.

..._her long brown hair was tied back in a braid...a faint dusting of freckles...Her blue eyes...He turned around with her, feet falling into the steps of the dance..._

Then the girl gasped and her eyes widened in terror as Minion loomed over them, as he was so good at doing. Reality crashed back with an almost audible 'thwump.'

"Come on! Get up," Minion said, grabbing him under the arm. He lifted Megamind to his feet. Megamind glanced back at the girl's upturned face as Minion pulled him down the icy sidewalk, and then they were gone, fled into the night.

"Are you all right, Roxanne?" Mrs. Ritchi asked as she went to her daughter.

"Yeah, I'm okay. We knocked heads. He ran into me," she added, in case her mother had missed the encounter. She was still a little dazed.

"Incredible!" Their neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Douglas were bending over her, their faces creased with concern. They'd been chatting and saying good night to Mrs. Ritchi in the lobby when Roxanne was bowled over by what, at first glance, appeared to be a scarecrow. "Are you okay, honey?" The restaurant's cashier crouched down next to Roxanne and placed her hand on her shoulder. "You all right? I need to call an ambulance?"

Roxanne was feeling suffocated by all the hovering. She staggered to her feet, nearly cracking heads with her mother. "I'm all _right._ Geez."

"Let's get her back inside," Mrs. Douglas said.

"I'm not hurt," Roxanne said, trying not to yell. Nobody was listening. Roxanne sighed and allowed herself to be fussed back into the restaurant.

"You sit here," said the cashier. Someone plunked a glass of water onto the table. Roxanne picked it up, and held the cold glass to her forehead. "We called the police," the cashier added, her lips pressed in a thin line.

"They took two delivery orders!" the manager was saying into the phone. "How am I supposed to keep this place going, huh? They've robbed us three times now! What do I pay taxes for, huh?" A small crowd was excitedly recounting the event, even though only a few people had actually seen anything. It didn't look like the restaurant was doing so badly. If anything, it looked more crowded than Roxanne had seen it for a while.

Roxanne's head throbbed. There'd probably be a bruise. _Wait'll I tell Cheryl, _she thought. _ She'll never believe it._

"Can't we just go, Mom? They're gone anyway."

"Well, I suppose we'll have to talk to the police," Mrs. Ritchi said uncertainly. "We're witnesses."

All the noise was giving Roxanne a headache. She put the glass down, closed her eyes and leaned her head on her hands. She hadn't seen the gun they said he always carried. He didn't look dangerous. He looked grubby. The news anchors on TV were always so grim when delivering the news of the alien boy's latest escapade, as if he were a serial killer. Of course, that robot-fish was a shock. Usually they just showed photos of Megamind, hamming it up for the camera. Minion was generally in the back, if at all, as a hulking shadow. In person he was definitely a revelation in hugeness.

Roxanne and her pals thought the whole thing was overblown, especially when they were all sitting around making fun of the situation. What did he ever do except steal everything in sight? It seemed a little less hilarious now.

In spite of the large cranium, his features actually looked pretty normal. Pretty good looking, even.

"Did you see his eyes, Mom?"

"What?" Mrs. Ritchi said, looking towards the door as if wishing they could sneak out. "Whose eyes?"

"The-" Roxanne hesitated. It didn't seem right to just call him "the alien," like he was some sort of specimen. "Megamind's eyes. Did you see how green they were? They almost glowed."

Mrs. Ritchi gave Roxanne an incredulous look. Roxanne threw her hands up in exasperation.

"What, Mom!"

"Don't take this the wrong way, dear," said Mrs. Ritchi. "But maybe we should have your head examined."

* * *

Megamind was unusually quiet on the ride back to the hideout. Minion wondered if he was still grumpy about their conversation in the store earlier, or maybe it was just that his head hurt. Minion thought they had some ice in the freezer. Sir was going to need it. Minion cleared his throat.

"I think there's some garlic chicken in one of the bags, Sir," he said. Food was generally a safe topic. Minion was sure he could smell some shrimp, too. He was looking forward to that. Minion didn't eat much, and was generally quite happy with his fish flakes, but some good meat he could sink his teeth into once in a while was welcome. It disturbed people sometimes when they found out that Minion liked to eat fish. He didn't really see why.

Megamind was still staring out the window. He gingerly felt the side of his head, which had borne the brunt of the impact. He seemed more distracted than angry.

"Um. Minion," he said haltingly.

Then there was silence. Minion waited.

"Yes, Sir?" he prompted, turning onto the exit ramp.

Megamind opened his mouth, then shut it again. Finally he turned to Minion with an anxious frown.

"Am I...my species I mean...is my species psychic? The Calli, I mean?"

Minion swiveled in astonishment, then turned to make sure their vehicle wasn't heading toward anything solid.

"Psychic," he muttered. A little louder he said, "You mean, like, ESP, making stuff float in the air, predicting the future, things like that?"

"Well, yes, something like that," Megamind said.

"No-o-o," Minion said carefully. "I don't think so."

"It's just that...I remember mother and father touching their foreheads together a few times..." his voice trailed off.

"Oh. Well." Minion shifted in his seat a bit. "Physical touch is a good way of producing feelings of comfort, and the Calli have always been rather sensitive around the neck and head regions. Your parents were calming each other down, I think," Minion said. "I think if you had any sort of...of mind powers, it would have been kinda obvious by now."

"Oh."

"Is there some reason you-"

"No!" Megamind said sharply. "No," he said again, more quietly. "No reason. I just wondered."

Minion glanced at Sir, who was staring out the window again. He was going to take a closer look at his head when they got home.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Please leave a review, if you are so inclined. Ciao, ciao, all! _


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's notes: Greetings! I want to thank everyone for reading my little tale, and thank you to everyone who left reviews! I really do appreciate it. This chapter features the warden, because I felt that it was only fair to show his side of things.**_

* * *

Chapter 8

It had been a bad moment, when the police asked for current photographs of the fugitives and Parker couldn't find any. After some rummaging in his desk he finally uncovered one, from about three or four years previously. It showed Megamind bent over a circuit board with a soldering wand, a look of eager intent on his face that was so different from his usual sneer. It wouldn't do, of course, the photo was a little too old and didn't really give a very good view of his features anyway. Minion wasn't even in the shot. Parker stared at it. He didn't remember who had taken the photo. He suddenly felt extremely tired and had to sit down.

The room was quiet but John Parker could not trust himself to speak. His throat was too tight. One of the police officers shifted his weight, and there was a muffled cough.

Schmidt took over. "We don't have mug shots. I'll give you their descriptions. Will that do?"

Parker gave the prison's security chief a grateful look. Schmidt gave a little nod back and led the officers out of the room to call in a sketch artist.

Parker sighed and tossed the photograph onto the desk, next to the miniaturized coffee cup. He took out a handkerchief and blew his nose. He had no idea how the boy had managed to shrink all the cups and plates in his office, but it's meaning was clear enough. Megamind might as well as have written "Screw you" on the wall.

It was amazing, he thought, how children could make you feel such anger and worry and grief, all at the same time.

* * *

Certainly there was no shortage of photographs now. It seemed like there was a new one featured on the news every other night. Catching the alien fugitives on camera was practically a new city-wide past time for a while, until people realized it brought a real chance of getting mugged, or blasted into cube form, after which there was a considerable cooling of enthusiasm.

All the photos did nothing to bring them any closer to capture. Despite their life-long institutionalization, Megamind and Minion were showing a remarkable ability to avoid the police. At first Parker hoped that the shock of being on their own in the confusing, sprawling city would bewilder them enough to lead to an early apprehension, but no such luck.

Though avoiding the police, Parker thought grimly, was probably not too difficult. He couldn't help but track their movements. He bought a city map, and marked down all confirmed sightings. He got rather excited when he saw the cluster of dots in the neighborhood of the public library.

Naturally, Megamind would be drawn there like a moth to a flame. There was no sign that anyone had been breaking into the library, but Parker managed to convince the police to set up a stakeout.

Out of curiosity, Parker drove casually by the library, just to see how the stakeout was being conducted. He drove home fuming.

Even _he_ spotted the unmarked car! And the black and white squad cars stood out like lighthouses. The boy probably saw them a mile away. Did they think Megamind would just walk up and surrender?

Not surprisingly, the police did not catch so much as a glimpse of the fugitives. Three different bookstores were robbed that week. It was always the same. The store employees would arrive in the morning to find the doors unlocked, the security system dead, and a chunk of their inventory gone. The university library was robbed, too. Twice.

He knew the police would not appreciate being told how to do their job, and he knew he had been overreaching his authority by insisting on that stakeout, but he called Detective Buford anyway, and, very tactfully, suggested that maybe the stakeout was just a bit too obvious. Later that day the police captain called Parker and told him to stop harassing his officers. Very tactfully, of course.

We will keep you informed of our progress on the case, he was told. We appreciate your concern for your wards, but we expect to have them in hand soon. Wayne Scott has agreed to scout out the library and surrounding regions every night, after he finishes his homework and gets permission from his parents. If anyone can catch them, he was told, then our Wayne can!

Parker thought the police department was beginning to depend far too much on young Wayne Scott. Super powers were no substitute for real police work.

* * *

They'd escaped from prison the very night before Joyce was released from the mental ward at the hospital. She had been hoping to re-establish some sort of relationship with them, to visit them again as she once had, before her depression made even the smallest tasks overwhelming.

Parker tried to shield his wife as much as possible, but there were some things that couldn't be hidden. He couldn't hide her from the news. She passively, relentlessly, watched every newscast, and he knew that she was keeping track of their movements, counting every break-in and mugging they were accused of. Whenever some new photo was aired, she'd just sigh. Sometimes she'd leave the room abruptly, go into the bedroom and close the door.

About four weeks after Megamind and Minion escaped, Joyce made a surprise request.

"You want to formally _adopt_ him?" John Parker said. He stared at his wife in amazement. So many problems sprang to mind that he hardly knew where to begin.

Joyce was sitting on the bed. It was late, and Parker was getting ready for bed. Joyce anxiously twisted her hands together on her lap. "Minion too," she said. "You always forget Minion."

"I do not," Parker said, stung. "But Minion isn't the problem. Joyce. You haven't seen him in nine years. He's not a sweet little boy anymore. You should hear the mouth he's got on him now. Boy doesn't respect anybody..."

"I'm not stupid," she snapped. "It's not like I think adopting him will turn him into an angel, I want to do it because it's the right thing to do."

Parker walked over to the window. He felt, irrationally, angry. He was the one who had brought up the issue of adoption, years ago. Joyce was the one who said she couldn't handle another child, and he'd had to agree. Even before the alien space pod landed in the prison yard and further complicated their lives she'd been showing very strong signs of being...overstressed.

He picked idly at the frost on the windowpane. The days were slowly getting longer, but it was the time of year when everyone was weary of the cold and the snow, and the darkness.

He struggled with himself for a while, then decided to focus on the most immediate issue.

"I think it's a little too late for adoption. And it's not like we can take them home with us, Joyce. They may not have had criminal records before, but they will now."

"But they've been in prison all this time," Joyce said. "Won't the courts take that into account?"

Parker ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I think they probably won't," he said. "He's not exactly acting like a frightened runaway. That doesn't help. And Minion just goes along with everything."

"But Blue deserves a chance, they can't just-"

"He doesn't answer to that name anymore!" Parker flared. He couldn't help himself. He should have been more frank with her about this whole situation, but he'd been trying to protect her, and the doctors were always saying how he mustn't upset her.

"How could you let him pick such a ridiculous name, John! 'Megamind.' It sounds like something out of a comic book."

"Oh, you think he listens to me? I don't have any influence over him, he's impossible to control, he-"

"Well, you know all about control, don't you?" she shot back.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he snapped. But Joyce turned away and shook her head. He stared at her silent profile for a moment, then he left the room before he could say something he'd regret.

He stomped down the stairs. Their daughter Melanie was doing some college coursework at the dining room table. Their youngest, Sam, was sprawled on the sofa watching TV. Parker frowned. Sam should be in bed, it was a school night, but he was sick and tired of always being the one ordering everyone around. Melanie looked up at his heavy footsteps.

"Everything all right, Dad?"

He had to get out of the house. "I'm going for a drive," he muttered. She started to stand up, but he grabbed his overcoat out of the closet and went out to the garage. He was so angry he almost forgot to open the garage door before he backed the car up. Then he went.

He drove. So this was the thanks he got, for practically being a single parent all this time. Accused of being a control freak. She'd accused him of being over-controlling before, when he had to tell her why he'd kicked Daniel out. "Why do you have to be so strict?" she'd said, as if their eldest son's drug use were just some little quirk that happened to bug him. That was when she had been in that facility up north, two years ago. She wondered why he didn't give Dan another chance, and he explained that he'd already given Dan chances. Five rounds of rehab were plenty of chances.

He _could _have had Dan arrested, for dealing drugs right out of their house. If the cops had raided the place, the whole family could have been taken to jail, because of the new draconian laws that made everyone in a house with drugs in it vulnerable to prosecution.

Instead of calling the police, he just told Dan to get out, and to never contact anyone in the family again. Danny didn't even try to deny it, he just grabbed the paper sack out of his father's hand, packed a duffel bag and left.

Parker warned Melanie and Sam to hang up if Dan ever called, which he still had the nerve to do occasionally, to ask for money. Parker suspected that Melanie sometimes sent her brother money, but he simply didn't have the strength to confront her about it.

And now Joyce was talking about adopting Megamind and Minion! God, how many criminals did one family need? At least Megamind wasn't a drug dealer, so far as Parker knew.

"Just a thief and a carjacker," he said out loud, almost cheerfully. He smacked the steering wheel and shook his head. Talking to himself was not a good sign.

Still, Joyce could be right. Adoption, even at this late stage, probably was the right thing to do. Would Minion be his son, then, too? It was strange to think about, but he supposed so. The main problem would be convincing a court, or review board, or whoever it was that decided these things, that Minion was a person and not a pet...

What was he THINKING! Adoption wasn't going to solve anything. But it nagged at him. He imagined discussing it with them, once they were caught, of course. Megamind would probably laugh in his face.

Why couldn't Megamind understand? _Everything I've done, I've done to try to keep him safe._

And now Megamind was out. He made the national news, which worried Parker. The last thing he wanted was for those somber government men to come around again, asking serious questions.

_We were assured the alien would be adequately contained. Who, pray tell, is now on a major crime spree? It does not look like he is being adequately contained to __**us**__._

He'd done the best he could, for both him and Dan, and it wasn't good enough. Thinking of his eldest son made Parker angry all over again. All the effort he'd expended, trying to get Dan to give up the drug lifestyle he was so grimly determined to embrace. Dan had every opportunity to do something with his life, and squandered every chance.

Parker stopped the car at a curb that overlooked the wharf. He looked out over frozen, snow-covered Lake Michigan for a long time, as the car slowly cooled and he could see his breath fogging the air.

The main problem with storming out of the house in a huff, is that sooner or later you have to go back. Parker looked gloomily at the car's clock. It was a little after midnight. With luck, everyone would be asleep by the time he returned.

He should really fill the tank, though. Knowing he was delaying, he started the car and began looking around for a gas station.

* * *

Ronnie's face brightened when he saw the familiar van pull up. All _right._ This physics homework was a real pain.

While Minion filled the tank, Megamind went into the station building. He leaped through the doors.

"Cuz I'm _T-N-T! I'm dyn-o-MITE!" _he shouted, playing air guitar. "Good evening Ronnie! How's the lawyer biz?" He laughed.

Ronnie chuckled along, a bit nervously. Last week when he told Megamind and Minion that he was planning on going to law school they'd burst into laughter. Minion did back flips in his bowl, guffawing. Megamind had been in real danger of falling onto the floor.

"You'll-you'll have to review our case!" Minion said, still laughing.

"Well, Ronnie," Megamind had gasped, wiping tears from his eyes, "we definitely could use more lawyers like you around!" Ronnie, perplexed, had giggled uncertainly. He didn't see what was so funny, but it was safest to go along with it.

Megamind graciously did his homework for him, declaring that he could have done it in his sleep, and left the same generous amount of cash as last time. Ronnie told himself it was okay, since he wouldn't really need to know any of this junk once he was a lawyer. At first Megamind had tried to explain a few things, something to do with 'quantum', but at Ronnie's dumbfounded look, he grew impatient, shoved Ronnie to the side, and did the work himself.

Megamind walked up to the counter with five packages of snack cakes and two bags of potato chips. "What do you have tonight?" He pulled out a small roll of twenties and tossed it at Ronnie.

"Physics," Ronnie said, showing him the ten page homework packet.

Megamind raised an eyebrow. "I see you haven't even tried to work on anything. Just as well," he said, shrugging. "Saves me the trouble of erasing everything, huh?" He chuckled again and jabbed Ronnie in the ribs with a pointy elbow. Ronnie grinned sheepishly. He rang up the prices for the food, and the gas. Minion had just finished filling the tank. Minion got in the van. Ronnie knew he would park it behind the station.

Whistling, Megamind laid his coat on the counter and read through the worksheets. He seemed to be taking a long time. Ronnie shifted a bit uneasily. Megamind usually didn't stick around for long. This homework was due tomorrow. Megamind had a distant look in his eye. He was obviously thinking of something else.

Minion came in the back door. He picked up one of the potato chip bags and walked over to the snack aisle. Ronnie wandered over.

"Put this on the tab, okay?" Minion said, showing him a box of granola bars. Ronnie nodded.

"Hey, how's it goin'?" Ronnie said. Minion was really okay, once you got past the teeth that seemed to follow you around the room, and he didn't scowl at Ronnie so much anymore. Minion smiled.

"Goin' pretty good," Minion said. Idly he gave the rack of sunglasses a spin. "So, you got any brothers or sisters?"

"Yeah, two older brothers," said Ronnie. Megamind was leafing through one of Ronnie's notebooks. Then he started writing in it.

"Uh..." said Ronnie, taking half a step toward the counter.

"They live in Metro City, too?" asked Minion.

"Uh, one does," said Ronnie. He whirled back toward the counter at the sound of ripping paper. Megamind was muttering to himself. He balled up the paper and started scribbling on another one.

"What do they do?" Minion asked.

"One...one's an intern at Metro General, the other lives in New York, he does something on Wall Street, hey, are those my notes? 'Cause I really need-"

"He's just using some blank pages to jot down some ideas," Minion said, opening the chip bag. "Probably. I wouldn't worry about it. So those are some pretty big footsteps to follow in, huh?" he said, raising his voice over the sound of more ripping paper.

"Uh, it's due...due tomorrow," Ronnie said, as loudly as he dared. Megamind looked around as if surprised to find himself there. He frowned a little and Ronnie almost wished he hadn't said anything. "I'm sorry. But...please?" Ronnie said, gulping.

Megamind raised an eyebrow slightly and one corner of his mouth quirked up. With an exaggerated sigh he picked up the homework packet again and started on the first problem.

"What made you decide on law?" asked Minion.

"Well...lawyers make a lot of money," said Ronnie. "My parents said it was a good field."

"Hm," said Minion. He held a handful of chips above his containment unit. He opened the dome, poked his head out, and neatly snapped them out of the metallic fingers. He crunched.

"Lots of ways to make money," said Minion. He gave the sunglass rack another twirl. "And some things are more important than money."

_Oh, brother, _thought Ronnie. _I've heard that before. _"Oh, yeah?" Ronnie muttered, looking at the litter of wadded up papers on the counter. "Like what?"

"Well, freedom's nice," said Minion, reaching into the bag again. Ronnie looked at Minion in surprise, then glanced at Megamind, bent intently over the work that Ronnie should be doing.

There was a brief flash of headlights as a car pulled into the gas station's driveway.

"Car, Sir!" Minion said sharply, fins flaring. He headed for the exit.

Megamind grabbed some of the uncrumpled papers he'd torn out of Ronnie's notebook, the snacks, and his coat and was at the back door before Minion could even reach it.

"You're on your own, Ronnie!" Megamind called, and then they were gone. To the accompanying, distant squeal of tires, Ronnie began clearing up the litter. He looked gloomily at the unfinished homework. Megamind had only done two pages.

* * *

Parker pulled in at the slightly obscenely named Kum 'n Go. He heard the sound of tires screeching behind the store and he huffed out a breath in annoyance. Too many nuts driving around these days, always making a racket. After filling the tank he went in to pay.

The young man behind the counter was picking up some rubbish. A couple of text books were off to the side.

"Still accept checks?" Parker asked. He had a couple of blank checks in his wallet. Parker filled it out while the kid rang it up. He recognized one of the books from a course that Melanie had taken last year.

"Going to university then?" he asked.

"Yeah," the kid said.

Parker handed him the check. His automatic parental responses were activated now. He had to ask. "You pick a major yet?"

"Yeah, I'm pre-law."

Parker was genuinely interested. "Really. Well, maybe we'll run into each other again sometime. Similar fields."

The young man looked at him. "Oh, you a lawyer, sir?"

"No, I'm the warden at the prison," Parker said. He frowned a little. Was it his imagination or did the kid go a little pale?

The young man grinned broadly. "Really!" he said shrilly. Parker thought the kid's voice was a little too loud.

"Why are you taking these science classes, if you're pre-law? If you don't mind me asking."

The kid chuckled nervously. "They make you take all these pre-requisites. They're hard. But I got a...a tutor."

Parker nodded slowly. "Well, that's good. Have a good night."

He went back to his car.

He didn't waste too much time wondering why that kid had been so nervous. Some people did act a little strange sometimes, when they found out what his profession was, as if they were afraid he were trying to find out what they'd done wrong. Police officers often got reactions like that. But if that young man were going to be a lawyer, he'd better toughen up.

* * *

_**End notes: Next chapter, Megamind and Minion return to center stage.**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Author's notes: Greetings! The summer is almost over and I wish everyone luck in the upcoming school year, to parents and students alike! In this chapter, Megamind discovers that he's not the only villain in town.**_

* * *

Chapter 9

"How would you like your own aquarium, Minion?" Megamind asked, paging through the sketchbook. There was a loud clatter as the broom hit the floor and Megamind looked up in surprise.

"You wouldn't put me in a _tank_, would you, Sir?" Minion cried, face full of dismay. And it was a face that had a lot of room to be dismayed in.

Megamind chuckled. "I'm not going to trap you in it," he said. "It would be a really big aquarium, for you to go into and out of whenever you liked. See? I've drawn up a few plans."

Minion clumped over to the table and looked over his shoulder. Megamind excitedly flipped through the pages. "Here's the lock mechanism, just like a canal lock, that'll rise up to the height of your containment unit, so you can swim into it, and it'll lower you down. Unless you happen to _like_ jumping in and out of your robot suit, that's always an option."

Minion's eyes widened at the elaborate drawings. The tank was the size of a small swimming pool. It was big enough to hold fifteen thousand gallons at least. Here and there were waving plants, and rocks, and castles on a pebbled floor. There were some rooms attached to the inner walls. On one end of the aquarium was the lock, on the other end was a filtration system. The beach ball was a nice touch.

"These are the buttons that you can operate yourself from the inside, with your nose or your fins, see, to control all the features of the lock, filters, lights, and temperature. You can decorate it any way you want, do you like the castles? We could even put some live fish in it if you ever felt like hunting down your own dinner!" Megamind laughed. Minion still hadn't said anything. Megamind glanced at him, feeling a touch uneasy. Had he overstepped some unspoken boundary? "Well, Minion, what do you-"

"It's beautiful!" Minion cried, grabbing Megamind in a bone-crushing hug. Megamind squawked.

"OH! Sorry, Sir!" Minion said, hurriedly dropping him. "My own tank!" he said, beaming at the drawings.

He had hated it whenever they stuck him in that rotten aquarium in the warden's office. It separated him from his beloved friend and master, and there was no more awful feeling than that, and yet...and yet...in the secret recesses of his heart, it was a little bit nice, just a little bit, to have room to swim back and forth, even in the rather smallish tank, to get out of the confines of the containment unit and move around under his own power, to stretch his fins, without the robot suit. Which was an excellent suit, no one could have provided him with a better means for getting around in this land-locked world. But this aquarium was going to be _sweet._

He was so touched that Megamind had been planning this great undertaking just for him that he almost hugged him again but he curbed his enthusiasm. He didn't want to break anything.

Megamind coughed and straightened his shirt, grinning. "Yes, well, it'll be a while before we can get it installed. I still have to figure out how to get running water for this place."

While Minion, humming, went to heat up some leftovers for supper, Megamind ripped out the pages for the aquarium and tacked them to the overflowing bulletin board. Several clippings from magazines and newspapers, featuring himself as the subject, hung from strings in the ceiling and spun gently in the air currents.

The van was repainted black. They'd spent an enjoyable, if cold, few days on the main floor changing the spark plugs and brake pads, fixing the struts, and basically making it into a vehicle worth owning. Minion once muttered something about 'wasting time on a piece of junk,' but Megamind scolded him. His first genuinely owned mode of transportation was _special._ Anything he didn't have to hot wire was _his._ He had the keys for it, therefore he owned it. The manner in which it was obtained was just circumstances. And the rust hole on the driver's side was a little one. He really should get around to welding a metal plate over it, though.

He sighed. A welder was another item on his ever-growing list.

There were a few other projects that were coming along, and one or two that were complete and needed a workout. He wandered over to one of the workbenches and picked up the electro-whip. Megamind pressed the button and turned it on. Minion glanced over at the sound of the crackle.

"Tell me again how that thing is any better than a taser," he said dryly.

Megamind snorted. He flicked the glowing strand through the air. It made a very satisfying whine. "It's a lot cooler, for one thing, and intimidating! This'll get people hopping!"

"Just keep it away from me is all I ask," Minion muttered. Megamind was too busy attacking the mannequin to pay attention.

* * *

Later, Megamind sat with his head propped on his hand, watching critically as Minion handled the knitting needles.

"So...what is that again?" he asked, grinning.

"Well, it's supposed to be a hat," Minion said, holding his handiwork up to the light. Megamind's smirk faded. He was going to have to deflect another attempt to bundle him. So far he had successfully fended off the scarves, the mittens, and the ear muffs. While Minion's fashion sense was really quite good, he was being extremely single-minded in his pursuit to keep Sir warm, and fashion did not figure into Minion's calculations. Megamind had to concede, though, that sometimes scarves came in handy when they needed to hide their identities.

He watched Minion for another few moments, frowning. He could hear a faint creaking coming from the robotic hands, and they didn't look as nimble as they ought to. He walked over, grabbed Minion's hand, and looked closely at the fingers. Corrosion was visible in the joints.

"These will have to be cleaned out," he said. He found a toothbrush and a metal scouring pad.

"Well, can't I finish the hat first?" Minion protested.

Megamind trapped one metal arm under his armpit and began scrubbing.

"No," he said curtly. "This junk has got to go. You'll have much better range of movement."

Half an hour later he was still scrubbing. He scowled and moved the metal fingers one by one. Minion twirled idly in his bowl atop the suit and hummed a little. "Is it going to be much longer, Sir?" he asked.

"How old is this thing anyway?" Megamind muttered to himself. The suit itself was not very old, but the metal it was made from was getting rusty. He should have made a new suit for Minion a long time ago.

"A new robotic body is just the thing, Minion," he said. "And I know a place that'll have some of the stuff we'll need for it." There was a great deal he could do for himself, but some computer circuitry was easier to steal than produce. He'd been wanting to see what that new electronics company would have for him anyway. This was the perfect occasion to pay them a visit.

He yawned and rubbed his eyes. "What time is it, Minion?"

"You've been awake for over thirty-two hours, Sir," Minion said, a little reproachfully.

"I didn't ask that, I asked what time it was," Megamind said haughtily. He felt smug. He could stay up as late as he wanted now. There was no one to shout "Lights out!" and make him go to bed, though Minion tried, of course.

"Almost nine, I guess," Minion said. "P.M." he added.

"I'm going to sleep," Megamind announced, and threw himself down on the cot. Minion went to his corner to power down.

* * *

Stan the delivery man pulled in to the back of the Polar North Warehouse. It was after ten o'clock already, he noticed with annoyance. The boss was getting after them lately to cut down on the overtime, but sometimes you had to put in the extra hours to get the deliveries finished. He'd just come all the way back from the Southdale Mall, after unloading four freezers. If Hugo got on his case again, he was seriously thinking about quitting.

He went to the back of the delivery truck to remove the straps and pallets. He began to pull out the pallet that was closest to the door when a noise from deep within the truck made him jump. Someone was snoring back there!

Stan climbed in and stared at the man for a minute. He edged forward, and made a face. The guy reeked of alcohol. Where did he come from? He had left the truck wide open for, oh, maybe twenty minutes or so, while he chatted with the clerks about how sucky the job market was. He felt no embarrassment over the fact that he could have gotten back to the warehouse well before ten if he hadn't been gabbing. Complaining was a job perk that was practically a right.

But now this drunk had wandered right into the truck and passed out! There was a bar and grill next to the department store. Is that where he'd wandered in from? Stan roughly shook the guy's shoulder. Groaning, he rolled over and blinked at Stan.

"You can't sleep here, man," Stan said.

The drunk groaned again. "'Kay," he murmured.

Stan shook his head in irritation. This guy _must _have come from that bar and grill, which meant that he must have parked there, too. Stan wasn't about to drive all the way back to Southdale just to drop this guy off at his car. Maybe he could call him a cab.

"Hey, you want to wait inside?" Stan asked. "I'll call you a cab. I gotta clock out."

"'Kay," the man murmured again, but made no move to get up. Stan hesitated, then unloaded the pallets. He went inside, clocked out, and turned in the truck keys. When he came out again, the drunk was gone. He looked up and down the street for a minute, then gave up and went home. He couldn't help but feel a little concerned, but what could you do? He couldn't go wandering around the maze of streets looking for some stranger. That guy was on his own.

* * *

Logan staggered down the block. This street _looked_ sort of familiar. If he could just find Connie's place, he was sure he'd be able to explain everything, if, if, if she would just _listen _for once, and that woman had to understand what a man _needs_, it was biology, it was natural for a guy to look around a little...

Logan struggled on, wondering why none of the dang sidewalks had been shoveled.

* * *

"Connie! Connie-e-e-e!"

Megamind swam up from the depths of sleep to the woeful sounds of Logan's call. He raised his head, then as the banging on the front door continued, he sprang up and dizzily bumped into the nearest floor lamp and turned it on. Minion was blowing bubbles in his sleep.

"Minion!" Megamind hissed, scrabbling around the debris on the table for the de-gun. Minion continued to drift, oblivious. Megamind walked over and smacked the metallic chest. The sharp noise finally woke Minion up.

"Wha..." he gurgled.

"Someone's outside!" Megamind whispered fiercely. "Are the doors locked?"

"Think so. What is it, police?" Minion said, blinking and shaking himself so his fins fluttered.

The pounding from upstairs was a steady beat as they hurried up the stairs to the factory's main floor.

Megamind's head felt full of cotton balls and it was hard to think. He'd barely dropped off to sleep, and now this fool was outside, bleating like some lost...lost fluffy thing.

"How long has he been out there?" Megamind demanded hoarsely. From the dim light that shone through the translucent window he could see his breath clouding the air. Already the tip of his nose felt cold, and his fingertips were tingling.

"I dunno, Sir, I was asleep," Minion said. The door rattled as the man tried the handle. "He sounds drunk, Sir. Maybe he'll go away soon."

Megamind paced around, tapping the de-gun against his thigh.

"Come on, Connie, lemme in!" the man brayed.

Megamind 'tch'-ed in annoyance. "What's he doing here? The idiot is clearly lost. There aren't any dwellings around here!" Minion shrugged.

Megamind ran back downstairs. When he came back up he had the electro-whip in his hand.

Minion blinked in alarm. "Sir, wait, I really think we should just wait for him to go away. If he sees..."

"I'm not waiting for him to pass out on the doorstep!" Megamind said grimly. He headed for the back door. "Don't worry, Minion, he won't see me." He gave an evil grin, but Minion was, somehow, not reassured.

Megamind opened the back door just enough to slip outside. Even so, the hinges creaked and groaned alarmingly. The snow was packed down hard. There was no wind, but the frigid air penetrated his clothes almost immediately. He cursed himself for not thinking to even put on gloves. He stretched the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. The fabric was pulled tight, didn't help at all, and caused the rest of the shirt to ride up his armpits. Impatiently he yanked it off again. There was a narrow trail through the crusted snow of the alley that he and Minion had made when they last inspected the building, and he stepped carefully in the old footprints, trying to avoid the crunchy bits.

He needn't have worried about alerting his prey. The drunken fool was unaware of his approach. He flattened himself against the wall and peered around the corner. The man had left off knocking on the door and was stumbling up and down the sidewalk, slapping his hands against his arms in an effort to warm himself. Megamind wondered if the man were a ruse to draw them out, but who would try such a thing? The cops didn't operate like that, they were always so obvious and official with their bullhorns and flashing lights, as if to make absolutely, positively sure that the criminals had a sporting chance, and that everyone knew where they stood on the game board.

A ruse by some criminal gang? Somehow this level of cleverness...and it was sub-level, really...seemed beyond the mental abilities of the average Metrocity criminal. He and Minion had a few near-encounters with muggers, but once a mugger got close enough to realize that the intended targets were the fugitive aliens, he unfailingly turned into a non-mugger, casually becoming an innocent passer-by out for a walk, heading in the opposite direction. Neither Megamind nor Minion were fooled. Having been on the receiving end of hostility, they could spot the predatory approach, the aura of threatened violence, and would brace themselves for trouble. Usually all that was needed was for the potential attacker or attackers to get a good look at who they were stalking, to see Minion clenching his massive fists, and to see Megamind casually reaching into his pocket, for them to decide that they really should look for an easier mark.

Once a man leaped out of an alley at them with a gun. He hadn't known who he was attacking, and to find himself suddenly confronted by Minion's bulk and Megamind's incredibly handsome features, almost did a back flip in mid-air, so anxious was he to rectify his mistake. Minion took advantage of his surprise and ripped the gun out of his hand. The man took a second to count his fingers, then fled.

A few times they even saw men that they'd known from the prison, but they were not on friendly terms with any of _these_ particular ex-cons. After some mutual glares from a distance, they went their separate ways without speaking.

Drug dealers were more annoying, and pushier, and Megamind had to dehydrate a few of them to send a message to the rest that he was not interested in buying their wares.

If this drunken lout was part of some trick, it was awfully sloppy. He scanned the surrounding buildings and the street. All was quiet.

Megamind pressed the button on the electro-whip. He grimaced a little at the slight whine it made as it was activated, but when he glanced around the corner again, his prey had not seemed to notice it. He waited until the man's back was turned, then stepped quickly around the bend and struck. The tip of the electro-whip snaked through the air and caught the man squarely in the back.

"Waugh!" the drunk yelled. His body was completely surrounded by a brief burst of light, then he collapsed.

"YeeeeeEEES!" Megamind crowed, jumping into the air and pumping his fist. He pounded on the front door. "Open up, Minion! I have immobilized the trespasser."

The front door squealed and complained as Minion came out. No door stayed closed if Minion wanted it open. Megamind crouched down by his victim and pulled out a wallet from the man's back pocket.

"Is he all right? He's all right, isn't he, Sir?" Minion asked.

"Of course he is, Minion. He's breathing. Volts don't kill people, amps do. The electro-whip has only a fraction of an amp, to deliver the charge," Megamind said. He wrinkled his nose. The man stank of cigarettes and beer. He rifled through the wallet until he found the driver's license.

"Logan Wannamaker. 1208 Peach Tree Street, Metrocity. Where do you suppose that is?"

Minion scratched his dome. "Suburb maybe?" he said.

"Maybe," Megamind said. He stood up and looked up and down the street. "So where's his car?" The street was devoid of any motorized vehicles. They took a brief walk around the neighboring buildings, including the old fire station, but didn't find a car.

"How did he get here? He couldn't have fallen out of the sky!" Megamind cried, shoving his frozen hands under his arms. He and Minion both automatically looked up. Any mention of flying always brought thoughts of their super-powered nemesis, but it bordered on the ridiculous that this drunken sot could have any relation to Wayne Scott. He marched back over to the unconscious man and shot him with the de-gun. He picked up the little cube.

"What are you going to do with him?"

"Oh, I don't know! I'll figure it out later. But I'm certainly not going to leave him out here until the spring thaw! He'll just re-hydrate, as drunk as ever, crying for this Connie person. I want to try to get some more sleep."

"Y'know, these old buildings do sort of look like houses, Sir," Minion said thoughtfully. "I remember reading once in the paper, this one guy, this drunk, he actually broke into some stranger's house and got into bed with the guy's wife and passed out!" Minion laughed. "He was so drunk he didn't even know where he was! I think he got shot in the leg."

"The only proper fate for trespassers," Megamind said haughtily.

* * *

Two nights later they were all set for a raid on Tanaka Industries.

"Why do you have to bring all this stuff, Sir?" Minion complained. Megamind was trying to figure out where to put the de-gun. All his pockets were full. The shoulder holster he'd hoped to use put the gun at the perfect angle to jab him in the armpit with every other step so he threw it out. Minion was going to be carrying four empty suitcases, though they would not be empty once they came back to the hideout. Megamind didn't want to dehydrate anything they might find at the robotics lab, which would then need to be _re-_hydrated later. It would be impossible to judge exactly how much water to add. He might end up with a lot of sensitive equipment sitting in damp puddles.

Impatiently Megamind adjusted the tool belt. It was already heavy with the key-o-matic and lock picks. He tried shoving the gun through the belt but found that he couldn't even sit down. The pockets of the parka were stuffed with the smoke bombs, the grappling hook gun, and the electro-whip. And a few snacks. And two sets of small screwdrivers. And a small notebook and some pens in case he got any ideas. It was a twenty-five minute drive, anything could happen.

"We got backpacks," Minion pointed out.

Megamind cast a dubious eye over to the packs in question. They were camping backpacks, each one nearly as tall as he was. Minion had casually schlepped them all over town during their wandering period. On Minion they looked like knapsacks. Megamind had a feeling that, should he don one of them, he'd look like an overloaded Sherpa.

"I'll keep that in mind, Minion, the next time I'm off to conquer Mt. Everest. You can carry the gun," Megamind said. Minion looked at the four suitcases piled on his arms, but Megamind opened the side panel in Minion's robotic suit. The de-gun just fit. He sealed the panel. The hidden panel had been quite helpful during their prison days, until one guard, a bit brighter than the others, had the realization that there were a lot of places on a robot body that could hide things. After that Minion's suit was regularly searched for contraband.

"There! In easy reach, though I doubt we'll need it," Megamind said. "I want to see what effect my electro-whip has on those dim-witted security guards!"

"What about the trespasser?" Minion asked. The cube was still sitting on the fridge.

"Hmph," Megamind grunted. He pocketed it. "Oh, we'll just drop him off at the emergency room. It's on the way."

* * *

Tanaka Industries had a complex of buildings on the north side of town, its own compound, on a new road. There was room for other companies to build on, but for the time being, Tanaka Industries was alone, surrounded by open areas of white fields, with a few stands of trees that would probably be torn down as soon as other businesses moved in and began building.

They parked the black van behind some convenient trees and climbed over the chain-link fence. It was a big place. There was even a park with a walking path. The company wanted its employees to be fit and happy. It took a minute to reach the main building. Megamind was beginning to wish they had cut through the fence and driven straight up.

Megamind and Minion rounded the last corner and stopped short.

Three men were grouped around the back door.

They were not security guards. They were wearing ski masks.

One was sitting with a laptop on a little stand. Wires led from the computer to the door. One man was wearing a dark blue outfit with white racing stripes on the sides. The third man was all in black, with a face mask that showed only his eyes, like a ninja. He uncrossed his arms in a decidedly non-casual way.

"Oh. This is...awkward..." Megamind said, taking a step back.

"Freezer Burn! Get them!" the ninja barked.

The guy in blue and white lifted his arms. Beams of white shot from his hands. Minion dropped the suitcases and shoved Megamind to the side and out of the way of the beams. Even so, Megamind felt the force of the freezing rays, like frostbite on his bare face. Minion was hit in the chest. Ice encased his torso, and the side panel.

Minion grunted and staggered back. From deep within the robotic core there was a high pitched whine as the temp regulators kicked into overdrive.

"Haugh!" Minion coughed, then he snarled and charged. Shards of ice broke and fell from his massive arms and shoulders in his own private avalanche, which is how he descended on Freezer Burn.

Megamind stared in surprise. He'd known his design was good, but Minion was showing some unexpected resilience.

The man in black was coming. Megamind backpedaled, digging in his pocket for the electro-whip.

Freezer Burn yelled as Minion grabbed him. Ice rays shot wildly in all directions. Ice formed, broke, and fell around Minion. Frost crackled and spread over his containment unit, but he looked very determined to do some damage.

Ninja guy was forced to dodge the occasional ice beam, but he was closing in on Megamind fast. Megamind yanked the whip free, lit it up, and struck. The man dodged. Electricity snapped as it hit the ground where the man had been standing. The man rolled and leaped. Megamind whirled. The man was already beside him, knocking the electro-whip out of his hand. It clattered against a wall.

Megamind ducked the swing aimed at his face. Crouching low, he immediately struck at the man's groin. When you're the smallest guy in the yard, notions like 'keeping it above the belt' tend to be the first casualties. Unfortunately ninja guy seemed to have graduated from the same school of dirty fighting. He turned aside from Megamind's attack so he received no more than a glancing blow on his hip. Megamind barely twisted out of the way of the incoming kick. He ducked another blow, then faked throwing a punch, and dodged to the side. What did he have? Smoke bombs. If he could get behind-

The man's foot shot out, and hooked Megamind's ankle, tripping him up so he staggered.

The next blow caught Megamind in the solar plexus and the wind was knocked out of him.

Bam! Wham! Two more hits to face and head sent him sprawling to the ground. The man in black yanked him to his feet and twisted his arm behind him, and Megamind felt the edge of a very sharp knife pressed to his throat. He couldn't see the knife but he sure could feel it. It felt like the kind of knife that could cut you if you even looked at it. He was pinned against the bigger man's chest.

"Your buddy's name Minion?" the man said in a low voice over his head.

"Y...Yes," Megamind gasped.

The man forced Megamind to turn so they were both facing the embattled Minion and Freezer Burn. Freezer Burn was screaming. Minion was shaking him like a rag doll.

"Hey, Minion!" ninja man bellowed.

Minion whirled in his bowl, and stopped in mid-snarl. Megamind would never forget the look of horror on his face, though he often tried.

"Let him go," the man ordered. "Put your hands up."

Minion dropped Freezer Burn and raised his arms. Freezer Burn sat groaning on the ground. After a moment he scooted a bit further away from Minion and slowly got to his feet.

"Brad, get over here," the man said.

Computer guy had wedged himself into the doorway during the fight. He stepped out and came over quickly.

"Empty his pockets."

Brad's shaky hands pulled everything out of Megamind's coat pockets. He took out the notebook. The screwdrivers. The smoke bombs. The snack packs. The grappling hook gun.

As item after item was produced the man snorted. "Where's the kitchen sink?" he said.

Brad sniggered. Even Freezer Burn, rubbing his head, forced out a chuckle. _Ah. A clever joke from the boss,_ Megamind thought sourly.

"Under his coat, too," the man ordered. Brad unzipped the parka, unbuckled Megamind's tool belt and held it up.

"Put it down over there," ninja man said.

Under the man's instructions, Brad awkwardly patted Megamind down, fumbled in Megamind's jean pockets and emptied them as well.

"Get that whip," the man said. Brad dutifully picked it up from where it lay by the wall. He touched the button that turned it on. It gave a little whine and a spark, but it didn't activate. It was broken.

"Let me see that stapler thing," said the man, nodding at the key-o-matic. Brad held it up and inspected it. "So what does it do?"

"I don't know, Shadow, I've never-"

"I wasn't asking you, I was talking to our little friend here," Shadow said. Megamind shot a panicky look at Minion. He couldn't tell this guy about his _inventions_. It was his _stuff. _His eyes cut over to the panel that hid the de-gun. It was completely iced over. So close. So useless. The gun itself might even be frozen. Minion would never get to it in time.

Shadow was not happy with his hesitation. "You have three seconds to answer," he said quietly. "One. Two."

Oh crap. He was going to have to give in.

"It's a...a..." he managed.

The man cut his neck. Megamind shrieked and nearly jumped out of the man's grip, but Shadow tightened his hold.

Minion cried "NO!" and stepped forward.

Brad took one look at the blood and fell down in a dead faint.

"Don't move!" Shadow roared, nearly deafening him. "Get back!" he shouted at Minion. "Or I'll cut him again!"

Minion was leaning forward, looking like he might leap right out of the bowl. With effort, growling, Minion stepped back and raised his hands again.

Shadow said, "It wasn't your jugular, genius. If it was, you'd-"

"That wasn't three seconds!" Megamind blurted out. "You forget how to _count,_ you sadistic..." He clamped his lips shut, too late. Outrage had momentarily taken control of his mouth.

There was a brief, heavy silence.

"Do you _want _to die?" Shadow said in a low voice.

_Is that a rhetorical question?_ Megamind thought wildly. Blood was soaking into his collar.

"It's a key-o-matic, it opens locks and disables the security system," Minion said loudly.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Shadow said. "Was that so hard? Was that so difficult? Freezer Burn, get over here and wake him up."

Freezer Burn made a wide circle around Minion and hurried over to the recumbent Brad. He turned him over onto his back and roughly shook his shoulder. "Hey. Hey, man, wake up."

Brad groaned and sat up. He glanced at Megamind's bloody neck and hurriedly looked away again.

"Get over there. Sit down and put your head between your knees," Shadow said disgustedly. "Useless. The both of you. I have to do everything. Useless." Freezer Burn shuffled about a little and looked at the ground.

"Not my fault," he mumbled. "How'm I supposed..." His voice trailed away under Shadow's withering glare.

Eyes averted, Brad scuttled back to the safety of the doorway. Shadow sighed. For a few moments he was lost in thought. Then he said, "All right. I'm in a forgiving mood. I can tell you're new at this, boy. I guess even little blue freaks have to go through an awkward teenage phase."

Brad began a strained chuckle, but seemed unable to decide if laughter was expected at this point, and gave it up.

"I'll tell you what," Shadow said. "I'm going to let you and your goon off the hook. Just get out of here and go home. Leave your things. I'm sure I'll find uses for them. I'll let you leave with your precious little lives, okay? Okay. Go home and put yourself to bed like a good boy. Minion, you go first. Keep your hands up, and get going. Now."

Minion walked past them. Shadow turned to face him, turning Megamind with him at knife point. After Minion was well past, Shadow addressed his captive.

"When I let go, start walking and don't look back or I'll kill you."

He let go of Megamind and he jerkily started forward.

"Hold on, wait a sec," Shadow said, grabbing his collar. Megamind froze. Slowly, deliberately, Shadow wiped the knife blade clean on Megamind's sleeve.

"Okay. Now you can go," Shadow said, and smacked him on the butt. Megamind could _hear_ the smirk on the man's face. He obeyed, operating on automatic. He and Minion left, leaving the field of battle to the winners.

* * *

After they rounded the corner and passed the first of the outbuildings, Minion burst out "Who does that guy think he is! That son of a bitch. I can't believe he took _everything_. Have to get you home."

Home. God, yes, he just wanted to go back to the pri- to the _hideout_. He held one shaky hand over the streaming cut. His head and cheek ached from the blows. His legs barely worked. All his muscles seemed to have been replaced with rubber bands. He moved forward in a sort of high-speed lurch under the burning power of sheer humiliation. The ease with which Shadow had taken him out was mortifying. He wanted to say something nonchalant, to show Minion it didn't matter, that he could just shrug it off, but he had no energy for it. He was still trying to re-learn how to breathe.

"We'll need some Bactine," Minion muttered miserably. "Band-aids. Hope you don't need stitches. I can't believe he took everything. Don't you worry about it, Sir, you can replace all those things."

Megamind gingerly removed his hand from his neck. The bleeding had stopped. There probably wouldn't even be a scar, but it stung and throbbed like hell. It would take a far worse wound than this to leave a mark. That was so close. If the knife had cut a centimeter more to the side...

He just wanted to go back to their hideout. He had no stomach for anything else tonight. Back to the hideout, then, where it was safe.

He slowed to a stop. It had started to snow again, tiny hard flakes that bit where they landed. He stared into the whirling snow. The night sky was black, as if it were a ceiling covered with crows. Megamind could almost see the fluttering of their wings...

Minion looked at him, worry creasing his forehead.

"What is it, Sir?"

They were on a winding sidewalk, lined with old-fashioned street lights. The van was around the next stand of trees. Safety beckoned. Megamind couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something about the way Shadow insisted that he go straight home. It made him want to do absolutely anything _except_ go home.

He went over to the pool of light cast by one of the street lamps and pulled out his empty coat pockets, examining them closely. Nothing left in them except lint. Minion watched, puzzled. Megamind looked hard at the wrists of his coat sleeves, feeling every inch. He ripped off his coat and peered at the collar, where Shadow had grabbed him, and there he found it, a little gray square hidden under the collar's tag, clinging to the fabric like a tick.

A tracking device. He carefully peeled it off. Minion gasped. Megamind shot him a warning look and made a chopping motion with his hand to keep quiet.

He turned it over. A tiny red light, like a firefly's glow, was on the underside. Megamind couldn't tell if there was a microphone in there or not. He looked around. There was a garbage can about half a block away. Megamind found a paper cup that was more or less on top of the refuse and carefully placed the tracking device in it. His first overwhelming urge was to crush the thing, but destroying it might have sent some sort of signal. A slow burn of rage grew in his chest.

He touched the neck wound as they continued their walk to the van. The image of the fox from his nightmare came to mind, looking like roadkill, how it had whimpered, the blood trickling from its neck, but it was a frickin' _dream, _it didn't mean_ anything_, he wasn't going to go scampering home because of some _dream_. He was seriously ticked off.

There was a girl in that dream, and not long afterwards he'd literally run into a girl who looked like her but so what? Lots of girls had brown hair and blue eyes. That was just coincidence.

When they got to the van, he asked, "The laundry bag in here, Minion?"

"Yeah, behind the seat." Megamind got into the back and kicked off his boots. He stripped off his clothes. He didn't think Shadow could have slipped any more tracers on him, or that fumble-fingered Brad, but he was _not_ taking any chances. He was too agitated to conduct a thorough search for more tracking devices. He flung the clothes at Minion.

"Get rid of these. The coat, too. Oh, don't look at me like that! I'm sure you'll find me another one that's equally large and coomb-ersome." The blood stain on the sleeve was a humiliating reminder that he would just as soon get rid of anyway. He rooted around in the laundry bag until he found some things that weren't too horrible and got dressed.

Minion smacked at the ice still clinging to his torso, cracking it and knocking it off. He popped open the panel in his side and carefully took out the de-gun. Megamind shoved his feet into the boots and hopped out of the van. He took the gun from Minion and inspected it. It was ice cold, but appeared to be intact. The BINKEY power source inside it gave off its usual glow.

"Get in," he ordered. Megamind climbed behind the wheel, reeking slightly of old clothes. Minion got into the passenger side.

"Home, Sir?" Minion asked.

"Of course not," Megamind snapped. "Let's find their vehicle. They probably parked around..."

"Sir! Let's just go! You found the tracer, let's go back!"

"I am not going to go traipsing back to the hideout with that guy looking for us, trying to track us down!" Megamind said.

"Sir," said Minion. "Please. That guy is _dangerous."_

"I can be dangerous, too, Minion," Megamind said, baring his teeth. "He beat me up, stole _my_ inventions, he cut me, HE THINKS HE CAN GET AWAY WITH PUSHING ME AROUND, I AM GOING TO SHOW HIM THE ERROR OF HIS WAYS!"

Minion was trembling. "But what are you going to _do?!" _he wailed.

Megamind smiled his old evil smile. "Don't worry, Minion, I merely wish to recover what is rightfully mine. I'm certainly not going to cut his throat! I can be merciful. I shall simply turn the situation back on him. He robbed me, so I shall rob him. Whatever it is that he's stealing from Tanaka Industries, that shall be mine as well. Then HE will have to live with the sting of humiliation!"

It didn't take long to find the SUV. They parked the van a good distance away, and waited for Shadow and his gang to come out.

* * *

_**End notes: If you're looking for more awesome Megamind stories, I highly recommend sapphiregirl93's excellent tale "Dangerous Secret." Drama, humor, romance, and action, it's got it all! Check it out!**_


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's notes: In the original draft of this story, the villain Shadow did not even exist. I thought that young Metro Man, the elements, and survival issues were going to be Megamind's main worry, but as I was revising and developing this story further, Shadow showed up, smirking, and muscled his way in._

* * *

"_Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril."_

_ -Oscar Wilde_

* * *

Chapter 10

The cube was discovered glowing innocently on the receiving nurse's desk in the emergency room. No one knew how or when it had gotten there. There was a great deal of speculation on what might be contained within it, but since all previously discovered cubes always proved to be dehydrated citizens, someone finally got up the nerve to add water. Logan Wannamaker re-materialized on the mat, sputtering and bewildered.

Logan was quite drunk, and had no idea how he had ended up as an infamous dehydrated cube, but was more than willing to explain to everyone that Connie had locked him out of the house.

Once it was clear, after much meandering discourse, that he was uninjured, the staff left him alone. Unfortunately, he showed little inclination to leave, even when an orderly offered to call him a cab, and even offered to pay for it.

He staggered around the waiting room, telling his story to anyone who was unlucky enough to be in his path, until both patients and staff heartily wished he would leave already.

Anne, one of the nurses, heard bits and pieces of his tale of woe as she came and went about her duties.

"...Polar North Warehouse, and, and, and I thought 'Hey! I use ta work there, man!' and I looked around in the truck, and bam! I wake up, and there I am, the ol' stomping grounds..."

He'd cornered one of the orderlies, a young man who hadn't quite mastered the art of disengaging himself from uncomfortable conversations.

"...so I says, 'Connie, you gotta _know_, you _got_ to know, she didn't mean nothin'..."

"But you said you were at your old work place, why did you think you were on Connie's street?" the young orderly said wearily.

Logan appeared unable to follow his line of reasoning. "So I went by the old fire station, you know, they're always sayin' they're fixing these old places up, waste of tax money you ask me, anyone'll tell you." He belched. "Nice picture on the wall. Nice horse painting."

The orderly, Benny, looked around in some desperation, and Anne took pity on him. She walked over and said, "Why don't you sit down for a while Mr. Wannamaker. You look tired."

After some urging, she got him to go sit in one of the waiting room chairs, and then she was called to the back room to help find their back up supply of bandages, but while she was searching, she began thinking to herself that there was only one way that Logan could have been dehydrated into a cube. He must have run into Megamind, insulted him, like maybe he'd thrown up on his shoes or something, and gotten shot with the de-gun.

Wasn't there a reward being offered for information leading to the capture of the alien?

Anne decided to engage Logan in conversation, as unpleasant as that might be, but when she went out to the waiting room again, he was nowhere in sight. They'd been trying to get rid of him all night, now when she actually wanted to talk to him, he was gone.

She scowled in frustration, and went to track down Benny.

"Benny, did that drunk guy take off?" she asked.

"Yeah, I got him to tell me his address, and put him in a cab. Why?"

She sighed and looked off into the distance. There was no way that she was going to go to the guy's house to question him, for crying out loud. She thought about the things she'd overheard Logan say, about the Polar North warehouse, and a wall with a big horse mural on it. Would any of that be of any use to the cops? She wasn't sure if phoning them with such vague second-hand information would be much help. Would it be enough to get her the reward money, or at least a piece of it? She'd have to think about it for a while.

* * *

"Give me that!" Megamind snapped, tearing the damp cloth out of Minion's hand. He peered into the rear view mirror and began cleaning the dried blood off his neck. "I can do it myself. I'm not an infant," he muttered.

Minion stared glumly out the windshield. What a disaster! And it started out so well, too. What was going to be a simple robbery had turned into some kind of deadly vendetta. He had a nagging feeling that everything that had gone wrong tonight was somehow his fault. When those ice rays hit, nearly freezing the water in his bowl, it had _hurt_, and the only thing on his mind was getting his hands on Freezer Burn and stopping the pain. He had no idea how much trouble Megamind was in until it was too late.

He shuddered. It was his job to serve and protect, and Minion felt that he was not living up to expectations.

Minion tried again to get Megamind to see reason, or at least to do something less risky.

"We could ambush 'em right here," Minion said. "Don't have to follow him home."

Megamind examined his neck for any remaining traces of blood. The wound was dark red, scabbed over already, as neat and straight as a paper cut. He sat back in the seat and clasped his hands together in front of him, resting his forefingers against his chin. His knuckles were slightly purple from the cold. He'd thrown out the black gloves, along with his coat and all the clothes he'd been wearing, to make absolutely certain that Shadow had not planted any more tracking devices.

"Poetic justice, Minion," he murmured. "He was going to follow me back to our hideout. But _I_ will follow him to _his._" He returned to staring intently out the windshield. His cheek was swelling up and there was a bruise on the side of his head, compliments of Shadow. Minion had hinted broadly on the need to got some ice packs, hoping that they could leave the premises. Megamind had simply pressed some snow on the injuries for a while.

This was a side to Megamind that Minion hadn't seen before. Minion was used to tirades, and hysterics, and declarations of rev-_ahnge_, but after the initial torrent of rage, Megamind had become deadly quiet. Minion wasn't sure how to handle this cold, evil silence. Megamind sat still, hardly even fidgeting. He didn't drum his hands on the wheel, or hum, or pick his teeth, or clean gunk out of the corners of his eyes, or any of the other hundred and one things he tended to do while being forced to wait. Once in a while he rubbed his shoulder and arm, the arm that Shadow had so cruelly twisted behind his back.

"Why don't you...let me take the wheel, Sir?" he asked casually. _ I can just...sort of...try to follow, then, just sort of lose them...totally by accident, could happen to anyone..._

Megamind stared at Minion a little too long. Minion gulped and tried not to squirm.

"No. Minion, I think I will drive," said Megamind firmly, and returned his gaze to the SUV.

"He'll spot us," Minion said gloomily. "You've never tried to follow anyone by car before."

Megamind gave him a grim smile. "I plan on learning quickly, Minion."

Some people appeared from around the corner, walking toward the SUV, and Megamind gripped the wheel.

The computer geek Brad was carrying his laptop. Freezer Burn was carrying a case. Shadow wasn't carrying anything. They got into the SUV and pulled out onto the street.

"Here we go," said Megamind.

* * *

When they got back to his apartment building, Shadow got out of the SUV and exhaled. He ran a hand through his blond hair and took Freezer Burn's pay packet out of his inner pocket.

"Don't spend it all in one place," he said. Freezer Burn chuckled. Shadow snatched the envelope out of his reach and glared coldly at his lackey. "Seriously. Keep a low profile for a few days. Think you can handle _that_?"

Freezer Burn's lips tightened. He was still aching from the pummeling he'd gotten from Minion. His pride had taken a pounding, too. His freeze rays had never failed so disastrously before.

"Yeah," he said sullenly.

"Glad to hear you can handle _something_ anyway," Shadow said. He gave him the promised payment, and Freezer Burn went to his battered pickup truck. Shadow and Brad went into the building.

They took the elevator up. Shadow unlocked his apartment door and they both went inside.

"Clear the table. Let's see what we got," he ordered. Brad carefully scooped up the mess of papers, take-out containers, and other debris that covered the table and put them on the cabinet. Shadow set the Tanaka case on the table and then shook out the other bag. He lined up all of Megamind's inventions, the electro-whip, the little cases that looked like they might be smoke bombs, the thing that Minion had claimed could open any lock, and the other things. Shadow hadn't tried it, of course, since Minion might have been lying. He would have to examine and test every one of these devices to find out their proper uses.

He picked up Megamind's pocket notebook and flipped through some of the pages. There were several sketches of technical diagrams. And one page with several sketches of Megamind himself, each face sporting a different mustache or beard. Shadow scoffed and tossed the notebook down. "You go through this book soon, see if there's anything useful in it," he said. Brad nodded.

Brad reached for the gun with the over-sized barrel that had a double-pronged hook sticking out of it, eyes eager. Shadow smacked his hand away and glared at him.

"Ow," Brad mumbled, rubbing his hand.

"Get that tracking program started," Shadow said. While Brad set up his computer in the living room, Shadow turned his head, stretching his neck. He could feel the tension start to dissipate. He could finally relax. Now he could have a drink or two, and take care of his frayed nerves.

He looked at the table again. He had a feeling that he was missing something. He counted the gadgets again, but everything was there. He shook his head and went to the kitchen.

Shadow had wanted to wait until Bates was back in town before pulling the heist, but the buyer was getting so skittish that he didn't dare wait any longer. It should have been a fairly straightforward break-in, and it was until Megamind and Minion showed up.

Shadow was shocked that Freezer Burn's powers had been useless against that fish-cyborg, or whatever the hell it was. He knew he had to take control fast.

The little freak was quick; he was lucky he'd been able to trip him. Good thing he got a hold of him, too, because Shadow didn't have any other way of stopping Minion. He'd left his guns behind, thinking that Freezer Burn would be enough to handle any trouble with the security guards.

Admittedly, he'd been a little careless with the knife. He hadn't meant to actually cut him, but the night was getting old and they were behind schedule. Then that whole mess with Brad fainting! Shadow shook his head in annoyance. Well, he'd recruited Brad for his technological capabilities, not his fighting skills. It was getting late, they were wasting time, and Shadow couldn't spend the rest of the night babysitting everybody.

He was very pleased to have remembered the tracking devices. Actually, this had worked out for the best. Now he could take his time and plan how to capture the fugitives. Megamind would go crawling back to his hidey-hole and lick his wounds, and jump at the shadows for a few days, but in a week or two he would have let his guard down. Shadow would plan an ambush. He'd like to see what other goodies the little freak had come up with. Megamind had an impressive store of weapons and gadgets stuffed in his pockets. Imagine what else he might have tucked away in his den.

And he could consider his options. Turning him in for the reward was one possibility, but Shadow would have to find someone reliable to handle it for him. Or perhaps he could recruit him, make him an offer he couldn't refuse. Megamind's inventiveness would serve him well.

Or Shadow could sell him outright. There were companies run by people with very casual ethical standards who would _love_ to get such a unique specimen into their labs.

Yes, he could think of plenty of uses for Megamind. Controlling him was all a matter of finding the right leverage, and Shadow was an expert on controlling people, super-powered or not. Not that Megamind even had any powers, really. He might be clever with gadgets, but he wasn't much different from every other punk kid that Shadow had run across. Minion, now, Minion was a real problem. He would need to find a reliable way to control that fish or Minion would be more trouble than he was worth.

As he reached for the fridge handle, Shadow realized what had been bothering him.

The de-gun. Megamind didn't have the de-gun on him, and from the reports, Megamind _always_ had it with him. There was no way Brad could have pocketed it. For one thing, Brad never would have tried anything as stupid as trying to hide something like that from Shadow, and for another, he couldn't pull a sleight-of-hand to save his life. Freezer Burn had been nowhere near them when Brad emptied Megamind's pockets, so he couldn't have taken it, either.

This was a troubling loose end, and Shadow didn't like loose ends.

"You got it running?" he said loudly.

"Uh, yeah," Brad answered from the living room.

"Make sure to mark whenever they spend five minutes or more in any one place," he ordered. "They could have more than one hideout."

"Yeah, okay, but, something weird is going on," Brad said. "It looks like he hasn't moved."

Shadow frowned. He took a beer out of the fridge. "Hasn't moved? You sure you-" He shut the door of the fridge.

Minion was standing behind the door.

Shadow was almost too surprised to move. Almost.

Shadow flung the beer bottle at Minion's face. Minion flinched, then struck. Shadow dodged Minion's punch, hurtling himself across the room. He grabbed the first thing he could get his hands on, a pot, and flung it hard. Minion's other arm shot out like a viper and nearly snagged his arm, but Shadow twisted and got away. Then the other robotic fist caught him across the jaw and lifted him off his feet.

By the time the room stopped spinning, Minion had both Shadow's wrists trapped behind his back. Megamind stood before him, in a wrinkled black sweatsuit, pointing the de-gun at Shadow's face. The knife wound on his neck stood out like an extra little smile. There was a faint smell of old socks.

Megamind smiled. "Guns beat knives," he said cheerfully.

Shadow's face twisted. "Little boy, you just made the biggest mistake of your life," he said in a low and deadly voice.

Megamind chuckled. "Yes, well, believe me, I am just terrified. This isn't much of a lair, I must say. I mean, I would have expected an old airplane hangar, or a remodeled warehouse or something, complete with an evil training center, but an apartment?" Megamind gave the tiny kitchen an elaborate, wide-eyed look. There were some urgent scuffling sounds coming from the living room and he looked around sharply. Megamind rushed down the hall, de-gun at the ready. Minion followed, hauling Shadow along.

Megamind found Brad hiding under the desk.

"Oh, it's the computer geek!" Megamind laughed. "Come on out, now. Stand right there, hands behind your head, and don't make any sudden movements. Or any movements, really." He casually waved the de-gun around as Brad complied, Adam's apple bobbing like a cork.

_I really should keep some rope handy for times like this,_ Megamind thought. He waved his arm experimentally, and frowned a little as the baggy shirtsleeve flapped back and forth. He just _had _to get a new wardrobe. He looked no better than some ragged street thug in this get-up. He walked over to the table where all of his precious inventions were laid out.

He picked up the whip, and shook his head over the hairline crack that ran down the length of the handle.

"I certainly hope you have been taking proper care of my inventions, or it will go hard with you," he said out loud.

"Everything's...everything's there, you can have 'em back, you-" Brad said nervously.

"Shut up," Shadow snarled.

Megamind chuckled. "Now, now, let's have some manners. I don't think there's any cause to go getting all worked up."

"So how'd you get in the building without your precious little tools?" Shadow demanded.

"Oh, we just pressed all the buzzers until some..." Minion said brightly.

"Minion!" Megamind snapped. Minion shut his mouth. Megamind scowled for a second, then his mocking smile returned.

"Wouldn't you like to know!" he said, sneering. "I have a host of skills at my disposal of which you know nothing. My secrets are my own, you understand. No doubt you must have secrets of your own that you wish to keep to yourself."

Shadow was very still.

Megamind walked slowly around the table, looking at the Tanaka case with interest. "And I am afraid I shall have to relieve you of your hard-won prize from Tanaka Industries," he said, running his hand possessively over the case.

The cords of Shadow's neck stood out. "Don't even think about touching that case, you rotten little blue freak, you bet-aagk!" His face went white and he sucked in his breath as Minion increased the pressure.

Megamind stalked toward Shadow, smirking. "I _strongly _suggest that the next sentence out of your mouth does not contain the words 'little', 'blue', or 'freak.'" he said. "Minion might get _upset._"

"Damn right," Minion muttered. He stopped twisting Shadow's arm just enough to stop the pain and the man regained a more normal color.

Megamind spun on his heel and strolled over to the desk. He raised a mocking eyebrow in Shadow's direction. "Now, if I had a secret identity, and I didn't want to risk anybody finding out, I would probably not bring my ID or my wallet along on an important mission, would I? It might get dropped."

A muscle jumped in Shadow's jaw.

"So where would I leave it? In my desk?" Megamind reached for a couple of drawers. They were sticky and didn't open right away. Megamind stuck the de-gun in the waistband of his pants to free his hands and wrenched the drawers open with a grunt. "I think I would. Well, what do you know, here it is!" He spun around, grinning evilly, flourishing a wallet.

And it all went pear-shaped.

Shadow twisted. His feet climbed the end table and somehow he flipped himself over into a somersault, launching himself right out of Minion's grip. The sudden, violent movement threw Minion off balance and his arms pinwheeled wildly. Megamind gasped, dropped the wallet, and fumbled for the de-gun.

Shadow leaped.

Megamind barely drew it in time. He pulled the trigger. There was a flash of light.

The force of Shadow's trajectory had been so strong that the cube continued on its course and bounced off Megamind's head. It landed on the carpet.

Megamind held the de-gun up, panting, eyes wide. Minion's mouth was hanging open.

Brad was doubled over, cringing. At the lack of screams, he carefully opened one eye and, once he'd established who the victor was, slowly straightened up again, keeping his hands behind his head.

Megamind swallowed hard and glared at the gaping Minion.

"Your hands get sweaty?" he said acidly.

"I don't know what happened!" Minion cried. "Nobody ever broke free before!"

Megamind exhaled and lowered the gun. "Well. Well. Just...don't let it happen again." He bent over to pick up the wallet.

Minion scowled at Brad. "Hope _you _don't get any ideas," he said.

"Not me," Brad said hurriedly. "Look...guys...the stuff's all right over there. Take it, just take it. And...and just go?"

Megamind scowled at him. "I will decide when I am ready to leave, if you don't mind," he said imperiously. He glared at the blue cube glowing on the floor. His lip curled and he kicked it across the carpeting. It rolled all the way out to the hallway before coming to a stop. "So, what's the big secret? No doubt he's an upstanding, well-known businessman in the community. Undoubtedly some public persona in which he would not want it known that he goes around at night dressed like a ninja. Maybe he's the mayor's nephew!"

Minion chuckled, "Yeah, wouldn't that beat all!"

Megamind pulled out the driver's license. "Edward Corbin. Not a bad photo."

He looked at the rest of the contents of the wallet. There was another leather cardholder. He flipped it open.

Minion leaned toward the glassy-eyed Brad. "I don't think you have anything to worry about," Minion murmured. Brad stared at him blankly. Minion gave him a reassuring, pointy-toothed grin. "You were just following orders. I know how it goes," Minion said, winking. "And Sir's not that vindictive, really, he'll be finished in a bit. Then I'm sure you can go," he said, wanting to reassure Brad that the inconvenience of the hostage situation would be over momentarily, with a minimum of any further discomfort.

Megamind stared at the badge...and there was no question about it, it was _definitely _a badge...for a while. He turned the cardholder over a couple of times and read the ID card again. No, the words were still there. They read:

Edward Corbin. Field Agent. Department of Paranormal Investigations. United States Government.

Megamind swayed a bit, and groped for the edge of the desk as his stomach slowly began to turn. He looked around the once-ordinary apartment. The shadows in the corners were darker, and they could be hiding _anything._

He swallowed. "Um, Minion," he croaked, and coughed a bit to clear his throat, and held up the badge for Minion to see.

Minion stared. He snatched the cardholder from Megamind's nerveless fingers. "A forgery," he said after a moment. "It's a fake, right?" he said hopefully.

"Well, no, because the little holographic picture in the corner, this symbol here, see?" said Megamind, voice beginning to ratchet up an octave. "Remember Cal? He said...he said...he said that the new holographic images they started putting on everything are impossible for counterfeiting hacks to reproduce...Counterfeiters can't...Oh my God, he's a _**FED,**_" Megamind whispered hoarsely.

Minion turned on the cringing Brad and grabbed a handful of his shirt. "Hey. Hey, this is a fake, right?" Minion growled.

"I can't say. I can't say!" Brad moaned. "He'll kill me!"

Megamind and Minion looked at each other. Then, as one, they charged over to the table. In his hurry, Minion knocked Brad over. Brad clasped his hands over his head and curled up in a ball on the floor.

"The whole place is probably wired for sound! Cameras everywhere! They'll be here any second! Get the thing, get the _thing, _no, the _other _thing!" Megamind shouted.

"But, Sir, what about the...the cube?"

"_Don't touch it!"_

They pounded down the hallway. The door crashed open. Brad cautiously raised his head, and then Brad heard the elderly neighbor lady's voice.

"You kids better knock off that racket! People are trying to sleep!" There was a squawk, and more pounding footsteps, as Megamind and Minion fled down the stairs.

"Well!" came the outraged elderly voice, getting closer. "How rude! Mr. Corbin? Mr. Corbin, you really must remind your friends..."

Brad grimaced. Oh great. Now the old bat was coming in. He hurried to intercept her, but she was already standing in the apartment's hallway, staring at the little blue cube glowing on the floor.

"Bradley! What is going on in here! Where is Mr. Corbin!" she demanded. She looked back at the cube. "Is that..."

"Uh, Mrs. Kindler, uh, we, Ed, I mean, had a break-in."

Mrs. Kindler gasped. "Well, don't just stand there! Call the police!" Another thought occurred to her. She gasped again, hand flying to her mouth. "Was that who pushed past me in the HALL?" she shrieked. "Where's Fluffy? Fluffy!" she cried rushing back to her apartment.

_Worried about some stupid cat,_ Brad thought, huffing out a breath and running a hand through his hair. He looked sideways at the cube and a cunning look passed over his face.

He imagined snatching up the cube, pocketing it, and leaving it, oh, nowhere in particular. For a few wild, glorious seconds he fantasized about getting out from under Shadow's thumb. Brad imagined telling the agents who would come looking, that why no, he hadn't seen Ed Corbin at all, really, he had no idea where he was.

But the nightmarish thought arose that someday, somehow, Corbin would re-hydrate, and he would be really ticked off_, _and would come looking for him.

Besides, Mrs. Kindler had seen it. And she was off to phone the cops now, probably, as soon as she found her cat. Brad had better see this thing through.

He sighed and went to get a glass of water to re-hydrate Corbin, so they would have time to get their story straight before Mrs. Kindler came back and the cops came. Let's see, they were watching a movie marathon, were ordering pizza, and, geez, suddenly Megamind comes through the door...yeah, that sounded good.

He hoped Corbin wasn't still in attack mode when he re-materialized.


	11. Chapter 11

**_Author's notes: Greetings and Happy New Year! The holidays are behind us, and I am back in the writing groove. Welcome to the latest installment of "Stepping Out." Enjoy! (The quote from Steve Martin is just for laughs.)_**

**_"We've had some fun tonight...considering we're all gonna DIE someday." -Steve Martin_**

* * *

Chapter 11

Brad poured the water over the cube and quickly took several steps back. Corbin re-materialized, a vision of bewildered, damp wrath. Brad raised his arms defensively as Corbin got to his feet.

"Gone! They're gone," Brad said quickly, peering under his arm. "Mrs. Kindler was just here, she'll be back any second."

Corbin's hands clenched into fists.

"The Tanaka case?" he asked.

"Gone," Brad said, gulping.

Corbin's eye twitched.

Mrs. Kindler chose that fortuitous moment to reappear, holding a fluffy calico cat in her arms. Brad had never been so glad to see anyone in his life. In her presence, Corbin's demeanor changed from murderous to indignant.

"Oh, thank goodness you're all right," said Mrs. Kindler at the sight of Corbin standing there un-cubed. She pressed a thin hand over her chest. "You just don't know what that laser gun will do to you! Probably plays all whack doodle with your atoms. _Are_ you all right, Edward?"

"Just fine, Mrs. Kindler," said Corbin.

"Now, I've called the police for you, Edward, so you don't have to worry about that. I'm sure everything will be fine. You just explain everything to them," she said.

"Yes," said Corbin, glaring at Brad.

_ Yeah, sure, blame me, _Brad thought miserably. _How could I stop her from calling the cops? What was I supposed to do, tackle her? _

"Though I suppose your things are probably long gone," Mrs. Kindler said sadly. "When those burglars robbed me last year, I never did get my radio back."

Corbin closed his eyes and gingerly touched the bruise on his jaw. "I'm...feeling a little light headed, Mrs. Kindler. Maybe some tea?"

"Oh, of course! You poor man. You come sit down over here."

With the cat dangling from one arm, she took a hold of Corbin's elbow and steered him into his kitchen. "It's just terrible, terrible! Aliens breaking into decent people's homes. We'll all be murdered in our beds next. And you in the CIA and all. No one is safe."

"DPI, Mrs. Kindler," said Corbin. "I'm with DPI. We're new."

* * *

"THE IMPORTANT THING IS TO REMAIN CALM!" Megamind shouted. "LET'S NOT GO LOSING OUR HEADS, AND RUNNING AROUND LIKE_...WHAT ARE YOU DOING! GET BACK ON THE FREEWAY! WE CAN'T GO BACK TO THE LAIR YET!"_

Minion, nerves shot, yanked the steering wheel sharply to the left. The van's tires skidded and squealed as it was hauled off the exit ramp. The van narrowly missed the guardrail, skittered across three lanes, and finally settled, rocking slightly, back onto the road. Minion was shaking.

"A little more warning next time!" Minion cried. "Sir," he added.

Megamind was too agitated to notice the lapse in protocol. "Just keep driving!" he said, looking over the back of his seat. "Is anyone following us?" He turned around to face the front again, laughing hysterically. "No, that's crazy, there couldn't be anyone following. Is there?" He looked back again.

"Of course not, of course not, that's ridiculous," he said, as if trying to convince himself. "I mean, really, there probably weren't even any wires, or cameras, or alarms. It was just a normal apartment, wasn't it? I mean," Megamind laughed again anxiously, "he wouldn't bug his own apartment! He doesn't want his fellow agents knowing what he's up to!"

"Say...Paranormal Investigations," Minion said. "Do you think 'Paranormal' includes...aliens?"

"I would not be at all surprised, Minion," Megamind said. "Do you think they have a Most Wanted List? Because I bet we'll be on it." He groaned, covered his face with his hands and slumped down in the seat so far that he almost slipped under the dashboard.

"But that's not fair!" Minion protested. "He started it!"

Megamind gave him a disgusted look. "Oh, right Minion! When does that excuse ever work?"

For a while there was only the sound of the tires on the road. The interior of the van changed from light to dark and back to light again as the street lights went by.

Minion steered the van on automatic. Fortunately there wasn't too much traffic. He resisted the urge to step on the gas, and kept an eye out for patrols. Sometimes a cop car parked on the median on this stretch, ready to pounce upon unwary speeders.

"How come he didn't...you know...introduce himself?" Minion wondered. "Like, 'This is Agent Corbin! Stand where you are!' That kind of thing? Aren't they supposed to do that?"

Megamind stared sightlessly at the dashboard. The dream was running through his thoughts again. That stupid, stupid dream.

_...The crow smiled, and struck..._

"Do you think it was a sting operation? Was he undercover?" Minion asked, desperately trying to find some sort of silver lining. There didn't seem to be one. He glanced over at Megamind's slumped form. He was feeling the need for some direction. Some orders to follow about now would be welcome.

"Sir?"

"The bogeyman is real," Megamind murmured, so quietly that Minion could barely hear him. "And he's got a nice, shiny knife. And a badge! Did you know that 'Corbin' is derived from the French language? Meaning 'crow' or 'raven.' I suppose they could have been ravens."

_Ravens? What ravens? _Minion flared his fins open and closed nervously. "That's interesting," he croaked. "Um, Sir, where are we going?"

"I don't think it was a sting operation," Megamind said. "He wasn't trying to lure those two nitwits into a criminal act so he could collar them. He was giving the orders. He was in _charge._"

Megamind's heart started racing again. Maybe it _was _some kind of sting operation, aimed at _him._ The thought was so terrible he pulled his knees up to his chest and covered his ears. Had they bugged the _lair? _No. No, it couldn't possibly...that was _insane_. Such an elaborate set-up! _They_ couldn't possibly have known that he was about to rob Tanaka Industries. Shadow...Corbin...had been surprised to see them there. If the feds had really been lying in wait, they would have gathered a much larger force to make certain of apprehending the alien fugitives. Come to that, if they knew where the lair was, they wouldn't have bothered to go to all the trouble of bugging it, they would just have moved in and arrested him.

He was not thinking clearly. Carefully he unfolded himself and smoothed down his shirt, glancing briefly at Minion to see if he'd noticed his conniptions. Finding Corbin's badge had thrown him right back into his ancient terror of the men in black, lurking in the shadows, ready to swoop in and take him away if he stepped out of line.

Okay, so it was just a question of whether Corbin would pursue them as Shadow, or as an agent, with all the might of the federal government behind him. Because he had a feeling that Corbin could get the entire FBI, CIA, and Humane Society after him. The man was clearly more than willing to commit acts of burglary. Why, planting false evidence was probably a snap.

Minion took an exit. Megamind felt too dispirited to give any orders, or even to be very curious about where Minion was going.

Several minutes later the van stopped behind a convenience store. Megamind looked at Minion with a puzzled frown.

Minion reached down to the floor and picked up the key-o-matic. "Be back in a minute, Sir," he said, and he got out.

Megamind propped an elbow against the door and laid his cheek on his fist. He rubbed his eyes with his other hand, then let the hand fall to his lap. He stared dully at the gray bricks of the building. He felt numb. Numb was good. It was an improvement over gut-lancing, all-consuming panic. It would be nice to remain numb a little longer.

Minion returned with several plastic-wrapped burgers and sandwiches.

"That looks suspiciously like real food," Megamind muttered. "Did they run out of vitamin-packed oat rectangles?"

Minion grinned and shrugged. "Eh. Grease is more comforting."

The burgers were still warm from the microwave. Megamind unwrapped one without any great enthusiasm, then discovered that he really was hungry. He wolfed it down. Minion snapped up his burger patty in two bites, then shook a few fish flakes onto the top of his water to finish.

"Corbin's going to want to track us down and make sure we don't tell anyone about his little moonlighting operation," Megamind said. The burger had tasted pretty good going down, but now it sat in his stomach like a rock. "And it's just our word against his."

He gasped and sat up as a beautiful thought blossomed.

"The computer!" he cried, grabbing Minion's arm. Minion yelped. "Computer geek's laptop!" Megamind shouted. "It's bound to be full of incriminating evidence! If we're cornered, we can corner him right back! Maybe we can strike a deal with Mr. Two-Faced Shadow Agent!"

Excitedly he scanned the floor. His recovered gadgets were piled by his feet. The Tanaka case was sitting between the front seats. Megamind clambered into the back of the van and looked around in increasing puzzlement.

"So where is it?" he demanded.

"What, the laptop? Didn't you get it?" Minion asked.

Megamind's stomach plummeted. "I told you to take everything!" he shouted.

"But I grabbed everything on the table!" Minion wailed. "You just kept saying 'get the thing'!"

"_He had it under the desk with him!_" Megamind shouted. "How could you not..." Breathing hard, he gripped the back of his seat and forced himself to calm down. Minion was cringing in his bowl. Megamind climbed back into the front and dropped into his seat.

"All right," he said. "So. The laptop was under the desk and you didn't see it. Fine. The very important computer with potentially vee-tal, life-saving information was left behind. Okay. No problem. We'll have to go to this Brad's place. Assuming he's not roommates with Corbin. And we are _not _going back there, that's for sure."

"Um," said Minion in a little voice.

Megamind closed his eyes. "Don't tell me. Let me guess. You didn't take his wallet. So we don't know where he lives."

"Well, everything was happening kinda fast..."

Megamind clenched his hands into fists. "Well, then, Minion. All we have to do," he said, voice rising, "is scour the city, with its _millions _of inhabitants, for _a guy named Brad!_"

"Yes. I mean, no," Minion squeaked. "I mean..."

"Forget it, forget it," Megamind said fiercely.

"Freezer Burn," Minion said hopefully. "Did you see the license plate on his truck? We could..."

"No," Megamind said. "No, I didn't bother to look." He'd been happy to see Freezer Burn leaving, because it was one less thing to worry about, and had taken no more notice of him or his vehicle.

"Well, what about the case? What'd they steal?" Minion said.

"I guess we might as well see what's so important," Megamind muttered. He put the case on his lap and opened the lid. Rows of silver discs greeted him. He pulled them out one by one, reading the labels.

"Face Melter," he read aloud. "Dance Party Factor Three. Samurai Delta Squad...what the hell...?"

"Hey! It's Super Gotcha!" Minion said in delight. "That's not supposed to come out until next year! They're video games, Sir! These must be prototypes."

"I know what they are," Megamind snapped. "But...but...he stole...we went through all _that_, for...I almost got my head cut off for a bunch of _games_?!" He scowled at the innocent rows of discs.

It wasn't plans for some top-secret weapon, or schematics for a revolutionary vehicle, or state of the art electronics. Just a bunch of games.

He slammed the case shut.

"Let's just go back, Minion."

Much later, in hindsight, he marveled that he was so unenthusiastic about their haul. But at the time the wonders of the gaming world were not yet apparent to him. He'd only ever had one video game, a clunky, hand-held model that the warden had given him when he was thirteen. It featured a gorilla throwing barrels at a technician, who had to jump over them. He mastered it in a few days and grew bored with it. He concluded that video games were simply another product for the unimaginative public, obviously concocted as a time-waster. He was going to dismantle it to see if anything more interesting could be done with its innards, but then he was stopped by the yearning, anxious look in Minion's eye. Deciding that Minion needed some work on his fine motor skills, he gave him the game. Then "Smiley" Rodrigo stole it, and the game got crushed in the ensuing epic battle when they went to reclaim it.

_Video games!_ he thought disgustedly. He supposed the discs were worth something.

* * *

It was still dark when they pulled into the main floor of the hideout. It was hard to believe that only a few hours ago they'd blissfully been packing for the raid, unaware of the trouble lying in wait for them. Minion was feeling quite low. He'd almost let Megamind get his throat cut. Shadow had broken free of Minion's grip and nearly clobbered Sir again. And he'd left that computer behind. His list of mistakes was growing shamefully long.

Food, usually a pretty good cure-all, had not worked its magic. The mood was grim.

_I wonder what he'll do,_ thought Minion. _Maybe beef up our security. Install some cameras, or an alarm, or..._

Megamind wordlessly gathered his inventions and got out of the van. Minion picked up the Tanaka case and followed him down the stairs. He set the case on a table, then busied himself in the kitchen area, pretending to reorganize the food stores, watching Megamind out of the corner of his eye. Megamind stripped off the dirty clothes, leaving a trail of them as he walked across the floor. He put on a clean v-necked t-shirt. He picked up a red flannel shirt and stared at it for a long time. With a huge sigh he put it on and buttoned up. Then he put on a zippered sweatshirt and pants, and climbed under the blankets. He lay on his back and laid one arm over his eyes.

Minion stood still for a moment, at a loss. _He's going to sleep?_ Well, no wonder, after everything that happened. But Minion wasn't sleepy at all.

So he began to straighten up. He picked up the discarded clothes. He wiped down the refrigerator and cleaned out the microwave. He swept the floor, conscientiously keeping away from Sir's sleep area, and swept under all the work tables. He was just getting started on sorting all the screws and bolts and washers into their proper containers-really, the work area should have been reorganized a long time ago-when Megamind spoke.

"Minion, if you don't go to sleep right now, I am going to take you to the nearest working toilet and flush you down it," he said flatly.

Minion winced. He'd been making too much noise. He better power down.

Miserably obedient, Minion retreated to his corner and powered down, but he still couldn't sleep. He swam around. He bumped his head against the dome. He nibbled on his fins. He did not feel right at all.

In his mind's eye he saw it all again, Megamind pinned against Shadow, knife at his throat. And all that _blood. _ He almost lost him. He almost... He worried at his tail, caught one of the trailing fronds in his teeth and chewed on it.

Guiltily, Minion realized that he hadn't even prepared an ice pack for Sir's other injuries, or even treated the knife wound on his neck.

Minion powered up again as quietly as possible. He tiptoed over to Megamind's cot. _Maybe I can just sort of stand by the bed, so if he wakes up and needs anything, I can be right there to..._

"What is it," Megamind snapped, without moving.

Minion jumped. Crap. He thought he was asleep.

"I was just checking, to see if you needed anything," he quavered.

"No, I don't need anything," Megamind murmured. "Except for you to stop clanking around. Go to sleep."

Minion nervously twined his fingers together. He didn't feel like a rough and tough henchman. He felt like crying.

"Can I sleep with you?" Minion burst out, and clamped his hands over his mouth.

Megamind raised his arm a little and peered at Minion with a single incredulous eyeball. Then he let his arm fall over his face again.

"Don't be such a baby, Minion," he said. "You'll be telling me you're afraid of the dark, next." He let his arm fall to his side and looked stonily around the room. "I notice that you've left all the lights on."

"I can't help it," said Minion. "I don't feel good. I just-just-" He rocked back and forth in agony.

"I'm so _sorry_, Sir, it was all my fault! You almost _died,_ and I couldn't do _anything!_" Minion wailed. "Please don't be mad at me anymore! I _should_ get flushed! I _should!_"

Megamind sat up in alarm. "I didn't mean it, Minion. I'd never really-"

Minion walked back and forth in agitation. "The ice rays! I didn't even _think _about the de-gun! And it was right there in my side panel! And you needed me and I didn't hear you-"

"Well, it's not like I was calling for help, Minion, you can't be expect-"

Minion flung his arms out in despair and nearly hit a lamp. "And I couldn't even hold on to that-that bad man!" Minion whirled and caught the side table a glancing blow. Paper plates and notebooks scattered across the floor. "He almost got you again! And I didn't get that computer, I should have thought of it, I was..."

Megamind jumped off the cot and grabbed Minion's arms. "Minion, stop it! I'm not angry at you, okay? I'm not going to flush you! Don't you know an idle threat when you hear one?" Minion looked at him sorrowfully.

Megamind stared into Minion's soft brown eyes. "I'm _not_ angry. All right? All your clumping around was making me crazy. That's all."

Still holding onto the big arms, Megamind lowered his eyes in thought. He looked back at Minion again. "Freezer Burn struck too fast," he said. "You couldn't have gotten the de-gun out in time. Your arm would've been frozen to your side. You _saved _me, Minion. You pushed me out of the way just in time. Even I, yes, even I was taken by surprise. And I would like you to take note that I am not dead. Breathing. Pulse. This is what is known as 'evidence'," he said, grinning crookedly. Minion managed a brief shaky smile, but his face looked close to crumpling again.

Megamind ran his gaze around the room. "Look," he said. "Get the lights turned off. We can leave one on. You can sleep with me in the cot, just for tonight. Okay?"

"Okay," Minion sniffled.

And so the blankets were rearranged, and the bowl disconnected from the robot suit. Megamind lay on his side with Minion's bowl held in the curve of his arm, against his chest. It was the way they'd always slept together when they were children, about a million years ago.

It was familiar and comforting. They lay quietly for a while.

"You socked Corbin a good one, Minion," Megamind said. "I told you that he couldn't handle you, and I was right, wasn't I?"

"Yep. You were right, Sir," Minion said.

"The look on his face when he saw you standing in his kitchen was priceless," Megamind chuckled.

Minion gave him a real smile then, all his pointy teeth showing. "Yeah, like a deer caught in the headlights!"

"That was a good move on your part, when he called me that name, and you twisted his arm without me even having to say anything," said Megamind. "Shows initiative. Teamwork." Minion blushed happily.

An old ritual drifted back into Megamind's memory. "Knock knock," he said impulsively.

Grinning, Minion opened the dome and stuck his head out. Megamind pressed his forehead against the damp scales of Minion's head. A little water dribbled onto the blanket but Megamind ignored it.

"Now go to sleep," he said. "Don't snore."

"Okay, Sir," Minion said, sinking back into the water.

A minute later he was snoring gently.

Megamind stared into space. For some reason the old bedtime ritual made him feel both better and worse at the same time. There was a hollow place in his chest and he bit his lip.

He'd been about to fall into a sort of thought-free stupor, if not actual sleep, before Minion had his breakdown. What with all the fuss, now he was wide awake. His back was cold. The cot was against the wall. He couldn't sleep if the bed wasn't against the wall, even though a steady stream of arctic chilliness radiated off it. Very carefully, so as not to disturb Minion, he wadded up a blanket for insulation.

The single lamp that Minion had left on illuminated the computer station, a pile of motherboards, and a couple of teetering stacks of books. Beyond the light's dimensions, the rest of the basement faded into dreary gray and black. It was like solitary confinement.

He'd meant to leave the prison behind forever. _Of course you can't __**go**__ home again_, he thought bitterly. _You always dragged the wretched place around with you everywhere you went._

On the ceiling, a few cobwebs waved in the heat currents that wafted off the space heaters. Minion always industriously swept them away, and the spiders, awakened from hibernation by the warmth, always just as industriously wove them again.

It was a lesson in perseverance, like that old story of the general who, having suffered yet another defeat, watched a spider patiently rebuild its web seven times, and from that he got the courage to persevere, to once again go into battle, and thereby became victorious. Megamind distrusted the tale. It sounded suspiciously like one of those stories that had character-building morals in it. But if it was crap, it was pretty good crap.

_Hey, you know who else has probably got lots of perseverance? _a sarcastic, perky voice piped up in the back of his head. _Agent Corbin! You really lit a fire under him, I'll bet! He's got lots of incentive to track __**you**__ down. Haul you away to Area 51 quicker'n you can say "extra-terrestrial." __**Especially**__ quicker than __**you**__ can say it. And it's not "extra-terres-tree-ALL" by the way._

Megamind, brain fogged with fatigue, played along. _ So what's this? My conscience? _he thought wearily.

_Nope! Good guess, though, _came the reply. _I'm your Second Thoughts. You really suck at listening._

Megamind's lip curled in a sneer. _ Well, if I'd listened to __**you**__, I'd never have left the prison, so there._

_ Ohhhh, yeahhh,_ came the snarky reply. _So how's that workin' out for ya? Got yourself a nice place here, a shabby rundown factory no one else wants._

_ Oh, shut up,_ he thought at himself.

_Better give warden a call,_ the voice said, almost kindly. _You're in over your big, blue head. Warden'll take you back. You know the number. Heck, he'll probably even drive over and pick you up himself! Sure, there'll be a little yelling, okay, maybe a __**lot**__ of yelling, and some scolding. Just nod and tune him out, and you'll be back in your nice, safe cell in no time. I don't think you'll get the same offer from Corbin..._

_ I said shut up! _Megamind thought fiercely. _I don't need the warden, and I don't need you! _

Second Thoughts were silent. Apparently it'd run out of things to be snarky about.

_I'm cracking up,_ Megamind thought. _Lying here arguing with myself. Well, I don't need anybody. I don't. _

He hugged Minion a little harder, and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

"So we're watching _Rocket Racers: Return of Skyjack, _it's the fourth movie, right? And we're waiting for the pizza," said Brad, waving his arms. "It's not the best one, the third one was a lot better, frankly, they should've followed up on the twin brother storyline, I don't know why they..."

The police officer sitting in the chair facing them tapped his pen on his notepad and interrupted. "Please, sir, can you tell me what happened next? With the _robbery?"_

Brad was reluctantly dragged back to reality. He glanced at Corbin, sitting impassively on the other side of the sofa, holding an ice pack to his bruised jaw.

Brad could tell that Corbin was reining his anger in pretty hard. But he seemed content to let Brad spin the story that they'd been watching an all-night movie marathon of Rocket Racer movies. It really was on TV, too. Brad had been pretty bummed over having to miss it, because they had to do the Tanaka break-in.

"So we're watching the movie, waiting for the pizza guy, and when the bell rang, whammo!" Brad smacked his fist into his hand. "It was Megamind! Can you believe it? I couldn't believe it!"

Brad was quite pleased to have come up with this story, and he was a little irritated that Corbin didn't seem very happy with his inventiveness. It wasn't like Corbin was adding much to the conversation.

The officer made some notes. "So what did he take?"

Brad blinked. "Excuse me?" he said, lips going dry. Corbin shifted his weight.

"What did he steal?" the cop asked. He glanced around at the room. The TV, stereo, and video player were all conspicuously not stolen. Brad felt a bead of sweat form on his temple. He hadn't thought of that yet. During the endless wait for the police, he'd spent most of his energy keeping Mrs. Kindler between himself and Corbin. When the cops finally arrived, she'd given her accounting of events, then taken her cat back to her apartment.

The other cop was looking at the chairs lying on the floor by the table. Megamind and Minion had knocked them over in their mad dash to gather up Megamind's inventions.

"They knock these over? Over here?" the cop asked.

Most of the surfaces of Corbin's apartment were covered with the usual debris of bachelor living, such as newspapers, take-out containers and odd pieces of clothing. The table was bare.

"Do you have any idea why he would break into your place, Mr. Corbin?" the annoyingly inquisitive cop asked.

Brad felt the drop of sweat trickle down his hairline. He hoped it wasn't visible.

"Minion attempted to confine me, I fought back, I was dehydrated," Corbin announced. "When Megamind found my wallet and discovered my status as a DPI agent, he panicked and fled without stealing anything."

The note-taking cop said, "Is that what happened, Mr. Newton?"

"Yep. That's pretty much it," Brad said quickly.

"So what's DPI again?" asked Officer Annoying.

"Department of Paranormal Investigations," said Corbin. "Used to be a subsection of the FBI. Recently we acquired separate status and operate independently. It's to more effectively deal with the growing challenges posed by the super-powered community." It was straight out of the brochure, if DPI had a brochure.

"You sure this break-in didn't have anything to do with your occupation? A case you're working on...?" the inquisitive cop asked. The question hung in the air.

"No," said Corbin. The cop looked at him, then at Brad. Brad dropped his eyes.

The note-taking officer nodded and wrote some more. He snapped his notepad shut. "Well, if you can think of anything more to tell us, any details could be helpful."

"Yes. Thank you, officers. I'll be sure to let you know," said Corbin.

He escorted the officers to the door and shut it behind them.

The cops looked at each other, then ambled down the hall.

The inquisitive cop muttered, "This apartment is on the seventh floor. Megamind just _happened_ to break into a place that's rented by a fed?"

The other one rolled his eyes. "Leave it," he muttered.

"Feds are jerks," grumbled the inquisitor. "Never tell us anything. 'Oh no, Officers, I'm just an innocent victim'," he sang in a nasally voice. "Paranormal. What is that, ghost busters? Stupid. It's illegal to conceal information about a crime. Like this break-in! What's he hiding? What's..."

"Would you drop it already?" his pragmatic partner snapped. "You see conspiracies everywhere. It's not worth your job."

* * *

"Man, good thing that's over with, huh?" Brad said, standing up to go put his laptop back in its case. Corbin came back into the room. Brad turned, and his smile faded. Corbin was walking at him _fast._

Corbin took hold of Brad's shirt and walked him backward until he slammed against the wall so hard that the pictures rattled.

"What did you tell him?" Corbin said in a low voice.

"I...you heard me...the movie," Brad gasped. "We were watch-"

Corbin slammed him against the wall again, once. "Not the cops, stupid," he said through his teeth. "What did you tell that little blue _rat _that broke into _my_ house and that _you_ let walk out of here with twenty million dollars worth of merchandise."

A number of thoughts went through Brad's head, one of which was, if all that stuff was worth twenty million, why was Brad only getting two thousand, and 'let' walk out? What was with the 'let'? Had Corbin really expected Brad to offer resistance? To tackle Minion and heroically wrest the case from his bone-crushing metal hands? To confront Megamind? Brad may have been bigger than Megamind, but he was under no illusions about his own fighting abilities. He had a feeling that even without the de-gun, Megamind's pointy elbows would win the day in a physical altercation.

In the interests of self-preservation, Brad did not ask those questions.

"Nothing. I didn't tell him anything," Brad squeaked. "It was just like you said. He found your badge and totally freaked. He didn't even take your wallet."

Corbin's face contorted. "I don't care about the wallet. What I care about is the fact that the biggest score of my career just walked out the door. You tell me _exactly _what you told that little freak."

"They asked me if your ID was fake, I said I couldn't say, that you'd kill me," Brad gulped. "I swear I didn't tell them about the business or anything, and they grabbed the stuff and ran."

Corbin stared into his eyes for another few heart-pounding moments, then he exhaled and let go of Brad's shirt. He turned and walked over to the desk. Brad slumped against the wall very quietly. When Corbin turned around again, he had a knife in his hand. He held it up and watched the light play along the blade. Brad watched, only his eyes moving.

"You said that the tracers were undetectable," Corbin said to the knife. "How is it that Megamind found them?"

Brad ran a tongue over his lips. "I said they were...practically...undetectable," he said hoarsely. "I don't know how he discovered them."

Corbin sighed and lowered the knife. He stared into the distance. "We need to update security immediately. Get Rahim and Dougie on the phone. Can you work on the system from here or do you need to be at the office?"

Corbin's lack of understanding how computers worked never ceased to amaze Brad, but he was careful to never show any condescension. While it was imperative to always prove your usefulness to Corbin, showing off your superiority was a good way to invite a lot of unnecessary pain into your life. But it had been a long night. Brad was exhausted.

"No, I can do it from here," he mumbled. "I can set up a conference call with the guys, video feed. But I'm kinda wore out, I'm not really with it right now, maybe tomorrow..."

Corbin's gaze sharpened on Brad and stopped his feeble protest.

"You think you're done for the night? You all tuckered out?" he said quietly. "How good are Megamind's hacking skills? Hm?"

"I don't know," Brad mumbled. He hated it when Corbin asked questions that didn't really require an answer.

"Well, I don't know either, Brad, which is why you better get every security system in our network tightened up real quick, and I want to know if anyone, anywhere, even looks into DPI, even if it's just some other snot-nosed kid doing research for a school project. You can do that, right? Get notified whenever our system gets accessed and find out what computer is being used?"

Brad nodded wearily. "Yeah. Yeah, I can do that." He took out his cell phone.

Corbin picked up the phone on the desk. He had his own call to make. He dialed.

"Hey, Ulrich. I need your nose. Get over to my place right away."

* * *

_**Endnotes: One source I consulted claimed that the word "corbin" is derived from the French language, another source claimed it comes from the Latin. I arbitrarily chose French.**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Author's notes: During the revising of this chapter, I was hit with the flu, which laid me low. Fever, aches and pains, exhaustion, the whole bit, and it took a while for my ears to stop ringing. But then I finally got back to writing, and wouldn't you know, this may be the longest chapter yet. **_

_** The words that appear in brackets,{like this}, are in Mandarin Chinese. It's a device from the world of comic books, where such brackets are used to indicate that a foreign language is being spoken. **_

_** If you would be so kind as to leave a few comments on what you liked about this story, I would really appreciate it! And now for this chapter's quote...**_

* * *

_**"Igor gave this some thought. In his experience a prime definition of 'the wrong hands' was 'the government.'"**_

_**-Terry Pratchett, from Making Money**_

* * *

Chapter 12

Megamind's eyes opened and he bolted upright.

"Logan Wannamaker, 1208 Peach Tree Street, Metrocity!" Megamind shouted. And then doubled over in agony as his chest reminded him that it had gotten a nasty kick the night before, and did not like all these sudden movements. Megamind flung off the blankets and staggered to his feet.

"A coincidence? I think not," he wheezed, hopping around and pulling his boots on.

"Wha...Peach Tree?" Minion mumbled.

"The intruder! Logan Wannamaker! Come on, Minion, get with the program."

He went over to the computer station and began flicking on switches. Power strip, router, monitor...

"Some yahoo tries to kick the door in and a couple nights later we're practic...why isn't the monitor coming on?" he snapped. He looked at the electronic tower. "Nothing's on!" Grumbling and holding a hand to his aching solar plexus, he crawled under the table.

Minion, still in the cot, looked at his motionless robot body standing a couple of feet away. If he were close enough, he could activate the arms, and put himself into the suit. He concentrated. The robot body remained motionless. Nuts. He must be a little too far away for the neural links to work.

"Um, Sir? If you could pick me up? I'm kind of stuck here," he called.

A torrent of cursing erupted from under the table.

"Mice!" Megamind shouted. "Mice chewed the wires! Right through the cable!" He emerged from the depths, a few stray cobwebs clinging to his scalp and eyebrow. Irritably he brushed them away. "Miserable, stinking, lousy, plague-ridden, detestable...death to them all!"

"If you could even just scoot me over a little, a little closer to the..." Minion said hopefully. He tried rocking his containment unit back and forth, but he was caught within a fold of the blanket.

Megamind paced around the room, stepping over the power cords that littered the floor.

"This Logan was a ruse. A plant. A spy. An informant! I'll tell you this! He will RUE the day he crossed my path. He will...will..." His voice trailed away, and he stopped pacing. "Of course," he said reluctantly, "he couldn't have told on us. He was a dehydrated cube at the time I was planning my brilliant break-in."

He scowled around the room, looking for something to vent his frustration on. He hated it when his train of thought got de-railed, even if he did the de-railing himself. The trespasser, their failed robbery attempt, getting attacked by another criminal gang, and for the leader of that gang to be a rogue federal agent...

There were too many coincidences, and too many unknowns. It all had to come together somehow, it _had_ to.

"I'm not going to spend all day messing around with wires," he announced. "I am going to investigate this Logan person myself, and I need a computer that hasn't been ravaged by rodents.

"Come on," he ordered, and went up the stairs. There was the sound of the van door slamming, and the basement was silent.

Minion sighed, waved his fins, and waited.

A few seconds later, he heard the sound of the van door opening and shutting again, and the sound of Megamind's footsteps as he stomped heavily down the stairs. Megamind, his back stiff with irritation, walked over to the bed.

"You are a _lot_ of work, you do know that, don't you, Minion?" he said testily, as he picked Minion up and deposited him back into the robot suit.

"Yes, Sir, I know," Minion said meekly. He powered up, raising his arms and flexing his fingers. They creaked. He wondered when they would be able to get to work on his new robot suit. Now was probably not a good time to ask.

He also would have liked to point out that it was the middle of the day, and keeping a low profile would be challenging, but sometimes it was best to let Megamind's manic thought process run its course. It was, perhaps, not a very respectful attitude, but it helped Minion figure when to protest a course of action, and when to go along for the ride until a new, shinier object of interest captured Megamind's attention.

* * *

"Not a peep, now," Minion said to the two sole employees of Computer Solutions, and began to shut the closet door on them.

"Wait-but-I'm claustrophobic!" one of them gasped. The man did look pretty pasty. Minion hesitated, but then he frowned and twitched his fins in irritation. It was the middle of the day, and by his internal clock, he should still be asleep, and he was not in the mood to make hostages comfy.

"You don't want to get dehydrated, do you?" Minion said. "Those cubes are _really_ small. A _lot_ smaller than this closet," he added, narrowing his eyes. The man gulped and pulled out his inhaler. Minion shut the door.

Megamind was typing furiously on the computer keys. Minion walked back through the cramped back room, piled high with circuit boards and computers in various stages of repair. He went out to the store's front door and put up the "Closed" sign. He browsed through the store's meager offerings. There were some old joysticks and a few other more complex video game control systems on one shelf, and Minion bagged one for his own use. After a moment he scooped up a few more. Might as well have a few spares. He peered out the window at the street below.

Computer Solutions was a store that specialized in rehabilitating used computers. It was located on the top floor of a six-story building that also housed a dentist's office, a craft store, and a flower shop. It was part of a row of buildings that were sandwiched together without even alleyways to separate them. A couple of delivery vans had been busy at the back, so they'd taken the long way around and entered the building via the rooftops, from three buildings over.

Minion wandered into the back room again to check on Megamind's progress. His eyes brightened as he noticed, for the first time, the employees' coats hanging on the wall.

"Hey, look!" he said excitedly, taking one of them down. "This is just like the one you threw away last night. Just dark gray." He looked at the tag. "It's even the same size! Isn't that lucky?"

Megamind looked over his shoulder at the beaming Minion. He looked the new tent-parka up and down. The corner of his mouth twitched.

"Wow," Megamind said finally. "What a...stroke of luck. You better empty the pockets first, though. I don't want to end up with that wheezy guy's used handkerchiefs." Then Megamind realized he was still wearing the red flannel shirt he'd put on to keep warm from last night. Oh no! Had he really come out in _public _wearing this thing?! What was the message here, Alien Lumberjack? He really did need that new coat to cover this questionable fashion statement.

Megamind turned back to the screen, and leaned back with a sigh. "The closest that Logan Wannamaker seems to have gotten to government work was participating in the President's Physical Fitness Challenge in middle school," Megamind said drearily. He sounded disappointed.

"Sir," Minion said, "I really think you're pursuing a dead end. That man was completely lost. I'm _sure_ we don't have anything to worry about. And, you were right, as _usual_, to decide to take him down. You knocked him out and protected the lair, all without being spotted! Really excellent work, Sir," he added, using flattery in an attempt to gently steer Megamind in another direction.

Megamind drummed his fingers on the desk. It would seem that this Logan really was who he appeared to be, a chance stranger stumbling across his doorstep. He idly rocked back and forth, and stared at the computer screen for some time. He felt the knife cut on his neck. The skin surrounding it was very sore, and the scab was dry and itchy. He let his hand fall before Minion could start scolding him about picking at it. He had a slight headache and his teeth ached dully on the side of his face that had taken the hit.

He should try to find out as much as possible about Edward Corbin.

But Corbin would be expecting him to come nosing around, or at least he wouldn't want to take any chances that Megamind _wouldn't _start digging around. Megamind's discovery of Corbin's ninja persona was a major breach of security.

He pushed off the desk and swiveled around in the chair. Last night he'd been running scared, as if the entire armed forces was about to come swooping in with helicopters and search lights and SWAT teams. Panic had been doing the thinking. Of course, Corbin _could_ manufacture evidence that would make the whole defense department want to get a hold of Megamind pretty badly, but would he?

Corbin didn't seem like the sort to let others exact rev-ahnge on his behalf. He seemed like the sort who would want to capture Megamind and deal with him _personally._ He wouldn't want to share. So, how far did his reach extend within DPI? Perhaps he kept his little crime ring separate from his formal job, perhaps not.

Megamind was seeing things a little differently in the daylight. Which, incidentally, he had seen far too little of lately.

The words he had spoken to comfort Minion last night came back to him.

"What really happened last night, Minion?" he said, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling.

"Huh?" Minion put aside the laptop he was examining. "Well..." he said, scratching his dome. "We got in a fight, you almost got whacked, we followed them back to the leader's place..."

Megamind grinned. "...And we kicked his butt. _And_ made off with his precious loot!" he said. He gave a short bark of laughter. "We got away with it too!"

A surge of fierce triumph flowed through him and with a push of his foot Megamind sent himself rolling across the room. His chest swelled with elation.

"Corbin is only a mere mortal, after all!" Megamind said. "Bogeymen? Hah! Such childish notions are best aired out and squashed."

"Yeah, I guess so, but..." said Minion uneasily.

Megamind was starting to feel downright annoyed with himself. To go haring out of Corbin's apartment like that was so amateurish.

He shoved the chair back across the room and came to an abrupt halt at the computer station. He was glad that those mice had chewed up the wires. It had gotten him out and about, and he'd had some time to think.

He began to think about security protocols, firewalls, encryption systems.

The U.S. government, like all governments, was in a covert war with all other nations, trying to protect its secrets, and at the same time trying to uncover the secrets of other countries in acts of one-upmanship, always angling for an edge. They probably had some of the most up-to-date systems in the world. Security would be a top priority for them.

They probably had networks that were closed systems, and not even connected to the Internet at all, and all sorts of alarms and tracking capabilities if anyone did try snooping around.

"Who else do you suppose Corbin has on his payroll, Minion?" he said musingly.

Minion shrugged. "You mean besides Freezer Burn? Guess you could get into their system and find out."

"Yes...if they are even listed. And I suppose Corbin will be expecting me to do something like that." He got up and went into the outer store. He peered around the edge of the window to take in the layout of the street.

Across the street and down the block, a "For Rent" sign graced the top of another six-story brick building. There was a restaurant on the ground level and the windows on the top two floors were boarded up.

Megamind went into the back room again. He hopped into the swivel chair and spun around. "I think I know a simple way to have some idea of who else is on Corbin's payroll. And it may even be rather fun." He grabbed onto the desk to stop the rotation.

Minion watched with a certain amount of consternation. If it had been up to him, he would have been perfectly happy to melt back into the shadows and go back to doing what they had been doing, which was getting the lair into habitable shape, breezing into stores in the wee hours of the night to procure supplies, helping with whatever projects Sir came up with, keeping ahead of the cops...even that young super-hero, Wayne Scott, was surprisingly easy to avoid. Once in a while he snagged a criminal or two, or came to the aid of the fire department and other emergency service providers, but mostly he seemed more concerned with his schoolwork and his position as the son of the wealthiest family in town than with being a full-time hero.

Minion liked being out of the prison. They might never have what others might consider normal lives, but as long as he was with Megamind, he was happy. There was evil, and then there was _eee-vil, _as Megamind sometimes said. Despite Megamind's grand ideas, it seemed to Minion that Megamind mostly did what was necessary to keep them autonomous. They couldn't have regular jobs, so they stole what they needed. They couldn't rent or buy a regular house, so they took over a perfectly good building that was standing idle. They couldn't depend on the law for protection, so they protected themselves.

There was no need to go looking for trouble. Minion did not want to have anything to do with this agent.

But Megamind was _thinking_. He had a look of disatisfaction on his face that did not bode well for Corbin. Minion could tell that Megamind was looking for a way to get back, to prove something, either to himself or to that agent. Megamind liked to make things go _his _way.

Sure, they'd gotten the better of that agent, broke into his home, stole his cargo, but they'd left in a rather undignified manner. Minion sensed that this was a problem, at least in Sir's mind.

Like with all those people who tried to take his photo. Megamind got fed up with that pretty quick, and decided that the best way to deter the pests was to make it financially painful for them to follow him around. Minion didn't like mugging people, but the thing is, it had worked. On the rare occasions he and Sir walked down a street now, the people just melted away. And Megamind, pleased to have gotten his way, sometimes actually sought out photo opportunities.

"Are you going to hack into their system, Sir?"

"In a way, Minion, in a way," Megamind said. "But not for the purpose of uncovering information. It would be far more prudent to come up with a decryption program back at the lair. They probably have all kinds of whistles and bells set to go off if someone starts digging around. But I wonder how quickly they would respond if someone _did _try hacking in."

Megamind, grinning, gave Minion a brief sideways look. "Want to see what happens?" He typed 'Department of Paranormal Investigations' into the search engine.

"Um..." Minion gulped. "Do we have to?"

Megamind clicked 'Go.'

* * *

In a corner office of the Federal Building, a light began blinking.

* * *

Megamind found exactly one page, which dryly described the function of DPI as a department that came about in order to more effectively focus on the growing challenges posed by those who had super powers. And that was it. The director was named, the central office was in Washington, D.C., and there were other offices in five other cities, with the one in Metrocity being the newest. DPI shared space at the Federal Building, along with the local chapter of the FBI.

Megamind did a bit more unauthorized digging, as clumsily as possible, so he would be certain to trigger at least one alarm. "That should do it," he said. "Let's be off."

* * *

Minutes later, two cars pulled up to the front of the building. Two more blocked the back street. Corbin got out of the driver's side. A rather hairy man got out of the passenger seat. He badly needed a shave, which wouldn't have been all that unusual, except this man needed to shave his forehead, his ears, and his nose, though the tip of said nose gleamed wetly. His pointed ears drooped slightly. When the other men got out of the other car and slammed their doors, one of the ears flicked, as if dislodging a fly.

"I still don't see why I had to come," the hairy man grumbled. "You've got the men you need, the building surrounded. I have to re-organize the archives today."

"In case he runs, Ulrich," Corbin said testily. "You've got the scent." Corbin pressed his lips together. This had to be more than someone casually nosing around the Internet. Whoever was looking at the DPI website was attempting to access its secret employee records. His pulse quickened. When he got his hands on that little freak he would take great pleasure in retrieving his property.

"Search the basement," Corbin ordered. "Close all exits."

* * *

Corbin and the other agents were quickly discovering that the basement was, in fact, just a basement, and was not housing any runaway alien delinquents. Ulrich sulked in the stairwell. Corbin had not been happy that Ulrich detected nothing in the basement more suspicious than rat droppings and mold.

"This is the place, right, Brad?" Corbin said into his phone.

"The alarm was tripped by a computer up on the top floor," Brad said gloomily. "I _told_ you it was from Computer Solutions. If you-"

Corbin hung up.

"Top floor," he ordered.

Some of them took the stairs while others covered the elevator. The door to Computer Solutions was locked. Corbin kicked it in, slamming it open so hard that the glass cracked.

The employees were freed from the closet, though they were not treated very gently by their rescuers. DPI agents were used to encountering people with unusual and sometimes fatally surprising abilities, and tended to react strongly to anyone even remotely suspicious. It was better to be safe than sorry, especially if being sorry meant getting blasted by a sonic scream, or fried by laser eyesight. The unfortunate workers were bound.

"Where are they?" Corbin demanded. He intended to question these men very closely, but later, after Megamind was in hand. They might be friends of Megamind; it was possible he'd stuffed them in the closet just to make them look like innocent victims.

"How should we know? I think one of your guys stepped on my inhaler," one of them wheezed accusingly. "Who did you say you were again? CSI?" Corbin turned away in annoyance. That was the trouble with being part of a new agency. You had to keep _explaining _all the time.

"Ulrich, pick up his trail," Corbin ordered.

"Stomping all over," Ulrich grumbled. "You and your men mess it up."

"Quit complaining and get on with it," Corbin snapped.

* * *

In the brick building across the street, half a block down, Megamind and Minion peered through cracks in the boarded window. Minion was a-flutter with nervousness. He thought that when Sir had said "Let's be off" that they would be actually _leaving. _ They'd left by the roof again, the same way they came in, but instead of heading back to their vehicle, they took a roundabout trail through the back alleys and circled around to this hiding place.

Megamind smiled grimly. "Swift response," he murmured. "Not bad. We barely had time to get in to position. They look like pretty standard human issue agent types." He peered upward. "No sign of any flying entities."

Minion hadn't thought of _that. _ "Flying...Sir, how were you planning on getting away if there _were?" _

"Don't be such a worrywart," Megamind said. "I'm sure a solution would have presented itself. Hmmm." He rubbed his chin. "I really should have given this a little more thought."

Minion glanced at him in mild surprise. An admission that this might have been a mistake? "Yeah, but we can still get to-"

"As amusing as it is to know they are on a wild goose chase, I should have planted a booby trap," Megamind chuckled. "So Corbin could booby right into it!"

"Make him even madder?" Minion said gloomily.

"Precisely!" Megamind said happily.

There was movement on the roof. Some men had come out of the service stairs. One of them was Corbin. That intense blond head was unmistakable. One of the men had a gray and white face, as if he were wearing paint. Megamind squinted. No, not paint. Had the wind just ruffled his...fur?

The furry man curled his lips back over his teeth and jerked his head up and down a few times, as if he were tasting the air, or trying to nudge aside a giant invisible fluffy blanket. The furry man hunched over and was lost to sight. The low wall that circled the roof hid him from view. Megamind narrowed his eyes.

Corbin and the other men moved swiftly across the roof, and the hairy man reappeared on top of the wall. With fluid grace he leaped lightly over to the next building and was lost to sight again. The men following him began to run.

Megamind didn't believe in werewolves. He did, however, believe in lab experiments gone horribly wrong. It was happening more and more these days.

Megamind's eyes gleamed. A tracker. Is this the best that Corbin could do? He knew exactly how to throw this one off.

"I've seen enough, Minion," he said. "Time for a strategic retreat." He grinned. "And it looks like I get to set a booby trap after all."

* * *

The noise level was rising in the kitchen of the Golden Phoenix Restaurant, as the prep cooks got ready for the nightly rush, but the loud bang as the back door crashed open made them all look up in surprise from their tasks.

The blue one charged through the kitchen, snatched a jug of wasabi powder off the shelf and lobbed it at the floating-fish robot, who caught it.

{"The freak!"} Hong burst out.

Megamind skidded to a halt so quickly that the floating-fish robot almost plowed into him.

{"Who said that!"} Megamind snapped. Furious green eyes raked over the motionless cooks. A pot of soup began to boil over, but no one made a move toward it.

The alien walked right up to Hong.

{"It was you, wasn't it,"} he said. {"Say that again. I may have misunderstood. My Mandarin is rusty."}

"Sir, what are you _doing?_" the floating-fish cyborg cried. "Ordering takeout?" Megamind ignored him. He looked prepared to stand there all day, if necessary, as if he hadn't, in fact, been making a mad dash for the exit only seconds before. His eyes bored into Hong's.

Hong clutched his bok choy to his chest.

{"I...said...it is the...very handsome and...distinguished...alien boy, paying a visit to our humble establishment,"} Hong said, inventing wildly.

Megamind smiled, his lips a thin line. {"That's what I thought,"} he said. He glanced off to the side, and grabbed a bottle of hot sauce off the counter. Turning on his heel, he strode toward the exit. The robot made a few helpless flapping gestures with his arms as if he would like give him a shove to hurry him along, but didn't quite dare.

The door closed behind them. The cooks looked at each other. Lee went over to the stove to rescue the soup.

{"You'd think he was from Shanghai,"} Hong muttered.

{"With that accent?"} Lee scoffed. {"I'd say Beijing."}

* * *

Ulrich followed the trail across the icy rooftops easily. The servant was a vague mix of metal, grease, and damp gears, and would be quite hard to follow normally. There were so many things in the city that smelled of metal and grease. But the scent of the alien boy was unmistakable. The food he'd eaten, the places he'd visited, the clothes he wore, it all marked him. The scent was surprisingly human, perhaps because the boy had lived among humans since infancy. Still, every individual creature had its own subtly unique scent and Megamind was no exception.

Across three buildings, then down the stairs. He remembered to pause at the bottom to allow the agents to catch up.

"You got the trail?" Corbin panted.

"Of course," Ulrich said, sitting back on his heels. "But here the trail separates."

"You mean they've separated?"

"No. Still together. But one trail older. But if he came from that way..." Ulrich pointed down the alley, "...why didn't he go back there? Why did he cross over..."

"Follow the fresher trail," Corbin said. "Is it really that hard? And if the two of them _do_ split up, follow Megamind."

It was a winding trail, too, that he almost lost when it went across the street, but luckily he picked it up again on the other side, and went along through a backlot, and alleys, always right turns. The boy seemed to be circling around.

The shouting of the agents finally got through to him and, snorting in annoyance, he stopped. You'd think that federal agents would be in better shape. Of course, he thought smugly, when he ran on all fours he was quite fast. The hair that covered his body chafed against the constricting clothes. He only removed his clothes in the privacy of his home. In public he clung to the last vestiges of his humanity, no matter how itchy the clothes felt. Thank goodness he didn't have to deal with the indignity of a tail. Sometimes it even felt awkward walking on two legs. He paused long enough for the agents to get caught up, Corbin scolding and squawking, and then he was off again.

Right outside the Golden Phoenix Restaurant the trail got suddenly _very _fresh and his blood roared in his ears. The boy had gone into the building, then come out again. No need to go inside.

Ulrich surged forward, face close to the ground, muscles stretching and contracting, in a glorious feeling of speed and power. There was only the briefest whiff on the air, a hint of sharpness, and his rational side yanked back hard on the reins, and he skidded to a halt right before he ran face first into the lake of hot pepper sauce that lay across the sidewalk. He yelped as the violent sting of the spices assailed him. He clapped a hand over his nose and backed up, growling.

That sneaky, cunning...! Oh, he was a clever one! To lay such a trap. But Ulrich wasn't fooled! He'd gotten a little sting from the fumes, but had avoided a full treatment. The little boy's trick had failed!

There were a few pedestrians about, but they pressed back against the building at the sight of him, and Ulrich paid them no heed. He blew his nose and took great gulps of air to clear his sinuses. The sting in his nose faded somewhat.

Some people had walked through the sauce already, sending at least four confusing trails in different directions...but the blue boy had not touched the sauce himself. Ha! After some very careful sniffing, edging around the overpowering hotness, Ulrich soon picked up the boy's untrammeled scent again.

Corbin, gasping for breath, was yelping at him, demanding to know what was going on, but Ulrich ignored him.

Ulrich leaped over the hot sauce and surged ahead.

He didn't stop to think that maybe there might be more than one trap.

With the lingering scent of the hot sauce still throbbing in his nasal passages, he failed to notice the wasabi powder around the corner, until he plowed through it, and inhaled it.

* * *

Corbin stared at the howling Ulrich, who was trying to claw his way through a storefront, or possibly he was trying to remove his own snout.

Useless. Why was everybody so damn useless? He glanced around. A number of fascinated onlookers were watching the show from a safe distance. Through the plate glass window, Corbin could see a few people huddled around the cash register. Time to take charge.

"Stand back, folks," he announced. "Everything's under control."

Corbin walked toward Ulrich. He reached into his pocket and felt the remote slip into his hand.

"Ulrich," he said sharply.

"Rrrrwhhhaaaat!" Ulrich roared, turning red-rimmed, streaming eyes on him. The wolf's mane on his neck bristled around his flattened ears. He took a few menacing steps forward, and Corbin pressed the button. Ulrich went rigid as the unit strapped to his ankle sent an electrical charge through him. He fell to the ground, twitching.

Corbin looked at him impassively. "Take him back," he ordered his men. "Bind his arms. Better put him in a cell until he recovers."

They moved to obey, and he turned away. He scuffed his foot through the remains of the innocent-looking wasabi powder scattered over the sidewalk. Face hardening, he gazed into the distance.

It was time for a more conventional, investigative approach.

* * *

"That was fun. Wasn't that fun, Minion?" Megamind said, laughing heartily.

Minion paused before answering. "Sir," he finally said in a strained voice, "I don't mean to be critical, but I would like to respectfully point out that we could have _easily _gotten to our vehicle, _way _ahead of that tracker, _without _all that..."

"Oh, poor Minion," Megamind chuckled. He grabbed Minion around the shoulders and shook him good-naturedly. Minion glared at the road and kept his hands on the wheel. "I'll have to do something about that stuffy English butler program you somehow got installed! I'm not making it easy for you, am I?"

"No, you're not. And I'm not stuffy," Minion muttered sullenly.

Megamind was unabashed. He gave Minion's shoulders another vigorous shake and laughed again. "Oh come on! That was _fun_! Just think of the look on that beast man's face! On Corbin's face!"

Megamind's glee was infectious. Minion could feel himself weakening. Almost against his will he could feel his mouth stretching into a grin.

"Probably was pretty funny..." he muttered reluctantly.

Megamind laughed and flopped back into his own seat.

"You know, I'll bet they thought they'd found the lair. They're probably still searching the basement!"

Minion's face split into a broad grin. "Yeah," he said, chuckling. "Yeah! Guess we showed them, huh?"

"Who are these _federales_!" Megamind said. "Just a glorified, overpaid, hoity-toity branch of law enforcement! Cops with sunglasses! Well, I've shown Metrocity's finest a thing or two! I'll bet I can run rings around the feds! Let's go get that tracer."

Minion stopped laughing. "What? But..."

"I'll disable it."

"Why didn't you just do that last night?"

"We would have lost the element of surprise! It hardly matters now. Corbin already knows I'm on to his little game. There's no reason to hide the fact that I discovered his clever little tracking device. I can use it. I'll be able to develop a scanner specifically for ferreting out such devices. No one will plant anything on me again if I have anything to say about it!"

* * *

The gray sky was darkening by the time they approached Sunway Drive, one of the roads that led to Tanaka Industries. Two ragged men were picking through the trash cans.

Minion pulled up to the curb. Megamind got out and strode forward, with every confidence that the bums would turn tail.

One of the men, with a scruffy bomber hat that had ear flaps that stuck out straight from the sides of his head, stared at him wide-eyed. Then his face split into a huge grin.

"Hey, Code Blue!" he cried and came at him with arms extended.

Megamind blinked. The man grabbed one of Megamind's hands with both of his own and began pumping his arm vigorously.

A shadow fell over the scruffy man's delighted face.

"Stop!" Megamind ordered sharply. This was addressed to Minion, who, still smarting over his failure to protect Sir last night, had been about to intercept the man with extreme prejudice. "Easy, Minion. Don't overreact."

Minion's lips were curled back to expose his teeth, and his clawed hands were within an inch of the bum's head. He quivered with restrained violence, then he pulled his arms back with an ominous creak.

Bomber Hat bestowed his radiant smile on the smoldering Minion. He seemed unaware that he'd been about to have his head pulled off.

Perhaps Megamind shouldn't have assumed that there wasn't any danger, but he'd seen that the man's hands were empty of weapons. And he didn't think that most attackers would have such a joyous expression on their faces. Unless it was a very _special _kind of attacker, but Megamind suspected that this was a different kind of crazy.

He was still shaking Megamind's hand and showed no signs of stopping. Megamind felt like his feet were about to vibrate right off the ground. He wasn't used to people being happy to see him. Annoyed, frightened, nervous, enraged... these were all typical and common reactions. But delighted?

Then the wind shifted and he became acutely aware of the _smell._ As if he were shaking hands with the combined contents of a dumpster and the prison's month-old laundry hamper. But somehow, he couldn't find it in his heart to yank his hand free, or even cover his nose. It would be like kicking six puppies at once. The man was so _overjoyed. _

He looked around at the other homeless man, to see if any help was in the offing. The other man, cigarette dangling almost straight down from his partially open mouth, was eying him warily. Megamind felt that he was on more familiar ground here.

"Code Blue?" Megamind said.

The man snatched the cigarette out of his mouth and licked his lips. "Uh...yeah...it's..."

"It's what we say when we hear you've been by, man!" the vigorous hand-shaker burst out. His smile grew a couple more inches. "You go to a store, the whole place is left wide open, _wide_ open, man, all that free stuff, man, I even slept overnight a coupla times!"

He showed no signs of releasing Megamind's hand. It was getting numb. Megamind pulled back a bit, to see if he could extract it without the use of heavy equipment.

"Oh, I see," he said, leaning his head back a little more out of the smell stream. "I visit a store, I've left the place unlocked and you...gentlemen...pay the place a visit, too."

Cigarette man grinned and blinked nervously. "We call it a 'Code Blue'. It's just, you know, to let everybody know there's a door open. Everybody knows what it means. You don't mind, do you, mister?"

"No, no, I suppose not." He might have to use the Jaws of Life to get his hand back. "Under the circumstances, it is...not inappropriate."

"I think you've thanked him enough, Curly. He's a little excited," cigarette man said apologetically.

Curly looked back at his friend, turned to Megamind again, and carefully, almost reverently, opened his hands and released Megamind's. Curly raised his own hands, ducked his head and stepped back. Geez, the guy was practically _bowing._ Megamind resisted the urge to wipe his hand against his shirt.

"Have you been here long? It's rather far outside the usual zone, isn't it?" Megamind asked. Tanaka Industries was at the very edge of the city limits, and there was little else within miles, other than farmland, and beyond that, rolling hills.

"Me and Reg took the bus out here!" Curly exclaimed. "They got their own restaurant in that place, man, some of the best stuff." He nodded toward the distant bulk of the buildings. Megamind pitied the other people on the bus. He stepped to the side so the wind was in his face.

"I'm looking for something I left here last night," he said. Curly's smile hadn't slipped an inch, and he gazed at Megamind with eagerness, as if he were expecting a treat. Megamind turned his back and studied the two garbage cans, painfully aware of Curly's attentions. Okay, yes, it was that can. That's where he'd stowed the tracking device.

He found a few cups, but no tracking device. He was sure this was the right one, but to be certain, he went down the walk to another corner to search the other garbage can there, too. Curly and Minion trailed along like a miniature entourage. Curly wore an expression of happy amazement. Minion was scowling, as if he regretted not taking the man's head off after all.

"You could make yourself useful, Minion," he snapped. Curly's adoring eyes were getting on his nerves. "Look at the one over there. I left it in a paper cup." Minion clumped away, pouting.

It could have fallen out. It was so small, it could have been tipped out by the scavengers, unnoticed. If it had fallen out of the cup it could have ended up anywhere. It could be at the bottom of the can, or lodged in something disgusting. How badly did he really need it? Maybe not enough to go scrounging around in the garbage. Surely he could come up with a generalized all-purpose scanner that could detect tracking devices, no matter their origin.

There was little traffic on this road, which was fortunate, but a snow plow and a sedan had passed by since they arrived. How long before their presence was reported? Did people even care anymore? His appearances were probably no longer even cause for excitement. Perhaps only enough for witnesses to comment on it to their buddies. "Hey, you know I saw that blue kid on the road the other day? Yeah, seriously! He was goin' through the trash." This was not an activity that was doing his image any good.

Megamind hesitated, then addressed Reg, who seemed to be the saner of the two. "I don't suppose either of you found anything of an electronic nature during your...excavations?"

Reg stamped out the cigarette, then fished another partially squashed stub out from behind his ear. "You mean, like a computer?" he asked.

"No, it would have been small, smaller than a bottle cap."

He shrugged. "Sorry. Don't think so." He bent over to block the wind and lit up the dog-end.

"Hey, is it a radio?" Curly said excitedly. "A communicator? You lookin' for a sign from the mothership?"

"Curly," Reg said out of the side of his mouth. "Don't bother him! Don't-"

"It's all right. It's nothing. Don't worry about it," Megamind said quickly. He sighed. "I guess I don't really need it anyway."

_Mothership. Don't I wish, _he thought. He had sometimes speculated with Minion about the possibility that they were not the only survivors of their doomed world, that other Calli and ichthyoids had escaped the black hole. It was exciting, to imagine that someday a mighty intergalactic cruiser would appear in the sky, with tremendous fanfare and alarm from the residents of Earth, and he and Minion would triumphantly walk aboard, heads held high...

...until he remembered how vast the universe was, and, even if there were other survivors, the chances of the Calli locating them were infinitely, mind-boggingly, depressingly small.

It was a fantasy. A childish daydream that always led to soul-sucking gloom, and he pushed it away.

He looked at the beaming Curly. A corner of aluminum foil peeked out from under his cap.

"There's...a mission on Cook Avenue," he said hesitantly. "They've got showers, and...and soap." There, he said it. Surely the man knew he smelled. You'd think his friend Reg would have broached the matter at some point.

Curly's smile disappeared, and his eyes grew round with horror. "Are you crazy, man? Can't use _soap. _ You know all those additives and chemicals and detergents they put in there are _poisonous_, man," he said leaning in close in a conspiritorial whisper. Megamind leaned back. Aaargh. The odor practically had a physical presence.

"Never touch the stuff," Curly said, straightening up, much to Megamind's relief. "It gives ya _cancer_." Megamind glanced at Reg, who shrugged and shook his head.

"Well," he said, "I suppose I'd better be going, then." He turned on his heel, gestured curtly for Minion, and walked back to the van.

* * *

"That was so cool, man!" Curly said. "I got to shake his hand!"

Reg grunted noncomitally as he sifted through some cardboard containers.

"When the blue people come, I'm gonna be the spokesman, man," Curly said dreamily. "I can show 'em around, show 'em the ropes."

Reg nodded. "Yeah, you do that, Curly. That'll be somethin' won't it?" he muttered. He leaned down to rummage under a pile of old newspapers. There was a promising aroma of a takeout container with perfectly good leftovers wafting into the air.

Curly turned his back and strolled, real casual-like, down the sidewalk a ways. He cautiously looked from right to left, and, glancing back to make sure that Reg was occupied, he reached into his pocket and took out a white paper napkin. Reg was a nice guy, but he didn't _understand, _and he worried so much.

Curly unfolded the little scrap. The tracking device lay in the center of the white square. He leaned in close and licked his lips. What should he say?

"We'll be ready for you guys, man, just leave everything to ol' Curly," he whispered. "I'll keep you safe. Got my special hat, so's the guvment can't read my mind." He lifted his bomber hat so the object could get a good view of his winter-grade aluminum foil hat underneath. The pyramid shape wasn't absolutely essential, except in summer, when the sun's rays were at their peak. In winter, he made do with overlapping triangles. "Your communicator is safe with me."

He nodded and smiled at the little device. There must an intergalactic camera in there, like the Hubble. He wanted to make sure the blue people knew he was friendly.

He felt guilty about hiding it from Megamind, but Curly had so few special things in his life. He promised himself that if any secret messages from the blue people came through, he'd be sure to let Megamind know.

* * *

_**End notes: Yes, I know he got the wasabi powder, a Japanese condiment, from a Chinese restaurant, but Chinese restaurants often feature a few non-Chinese items on their menus, including pizza, onion rings, spinach and cheese (though which country this originated in, I have no idea) and sushi with wasabi sauce.**_

**_Please remember to leave a review! Take care and stay healthy._**


	13. Chapter 13

_**Author's notes: A big thank you goes out to my husband, who helped me figure out what sort of car a young car thief would just die for. He knows a lot more about cars than I do, and when I asked him what sort of car a thief would want to steal, after a mere moment's thought he responded: "Shelby Mustang." So there it is!**_

* * *

Chapter 13

Megamind moved the slide of the semi-automatic into place. It made a very satisfying click.

"There!" he said triumphantly. "Told you I remembered how."

"Never doubted it for a second, Sir," Minion said from behind the refrigerator.

"I didn't even load the magazine, you guppy," Megamind said. "And if this thing _did _go off, the bullet would've gone right through the fridge, so I don't know why you even bothered to hide back there."

Al Kopecki, the only guard to win the title of 'uncle,' had taken Megamind aside one day-or rather, he'd taken young Blue aside one day- and showed him how to disassemble and reassemble Al's own personal semi-automatic.

Megamind never knew why Uncle Al did this. It was shortly after he'd gotten the boot from that sad excuse of a school, the warden had confiscated the de-gun, and he was still reeling from the revelation that, if he continued to behave in a less than stellar fashion, the dark government men would bundle him and Minion off to some dreaded lab for some serious dissection.

Megamind remembered that time as being depressing and nerve-wracking, emphasis on 'wracking'. He couldn't stop jumping at shadows, and he refused to go outside. Being out under the open sky in the courtyard, he felt horribly exposed, as if missiles were about to rain down from above. Certainly there must be spy satellites up there, at the very least, chronicling his every move!

Megamind could scoff at such ridiculous notions now, from the grand vantage point of his all-knowing teenage heights, but the danger had seemed very real to his younger self.

Perhaps Uncle Al had wanted to compensate for the recent hard knocks that Blue had endured. Knowing how to take apart and put together the semi-automatic had given young Blue a sense of power, and having a secret, well, that was pure gold.

Al only had a high school education, and frequently joked about it, but sometimes Megamind suspected that Al felt bad about his lack of education, and wanted to be able to impart some knowledge to the young genius in his care, and the proper handling of weapons was something that Al knew.

It was a terrible risk. The warden would've had Al's head if he'd found out. But, Megamind thought smugly, he never did.

He went over to the cabinet where they kept their increasing supply of weaponry. They'd accumulated several guns of differing types in the course of their nightly excursions, one from a luckless mugger. The others they had found in stores, under counters, locked in back rooms, along with an array of pepper sprays, mace, baseball bats, and truncheons. In certain parts of town, where police response time was depressingly slow, or even non-existent, many citizens trusted strongly in the immediate results of self-protection. It was all well and good to call the police after the carnage was over, but in order to do that, one had to be physically capable of dialing the phone.

Minion edged out from his haven. "That wouldn't go through the fridge," he said doubtfully, casting a wary eye on the gun.

"It would," Megamind declared, putting it back with its brethren. "Bullets go through walls all the time."

"Would not."

"Would too."

"Care to put your theory to the test?" Megamind boomed, whirling around with the gun in his hand again.  
"Not here, not here!" Minion shouted, holding his hands out in front of him.

Megamind cackled. "Of course not _here,"_ he said, grinning evilly. "Not on _my _fridge!"

* * *

The van roared to a stop in the middle of Goob's Junkyard. Megamind leaped out with the boom box and hit the play button.

"Aaaaaaoooow, Sir!" Minion whined. "We've listened to that like a bazillion times already! I _like _Metallica, but if I have to hear 'Enter Sandman' again..."

"Bazillion isn't a number, Minion!" Megamind said. "But if it were, then this would be a bazillion and one! Now. Find me a refrigerator so I may send it to its doom."

The results of the semi-automatic on the junkyard refrigerator were inconclusive. Some bullets went through the door but lodged in the back, and a couple 'ping'-ed right off. Megamind moved on to testing the power of the brand-spanking-new setting for his de-gun.

The 'de-stroy' setting.

Megamind chose his victim, a decrepit Cadillac, and took aim.

Minion said, "Uh, shouldn't we get behind..."

Megamind pulled the trigger.

The Cadillac erupted. They staggered and ran back from the flames. A magnificent fireball ascended to the heavens, briefly making the junkyard as bright as day.

"Whoaaaaa," Minion breathed.

"Yes. Whoa," Megamind concurred, chuckling. "Gas tank must have still been in that one."

"Hey. Hey, Sir," Minion said, nudging him. "Try that washing machine."

"Stand back," Megamind shouted. He stepped into the warm red circle of light of the burning Caddy. "I'm a professional! Don't try this at home!" he laughed. "Look! One handed shot."

He planted his feet like a gunslinger from the Old West and swept back his coat from the equally-brand-spanking-new holster. The bulky coat did not stay swept, but promptly lumbered back into its all-enveloping position. Teeth gritted in annoyance, Megamind pulled the coat off and tossed it aside.

There! Much better.

"Reach for the sky!" he shouted at the luckless washer. He waggled his fingers over the handle of the de-gun, then whipped it out and fired. A crackle of blue energy spread over the washer, then it exploded, raining pieces of metal over the landscape.

"A perfect shot," Megamind shouted, grinning. "I pity the next appliance to cross paths with ME!" He spun the gun on his finger twice before it fell off. Hurriedly he scooped it up from the ground.

Minion laughed. "They won't know what hit 'em, Sir!"

They spent a merry half hour or so blowing things up. Minion threw tires into the air for Megamind to shoot.

"Heave!" Megamind shouted.

"Heave ho!" Minion responded, and flung the tire into the sky.

It was tricky; the black tires were tough to spot against the night sky, even with the clouds that trapped some of the city lights, and sometimes the tires crashed to the earth before they exploded.

Megamind took aim, but a very familiar sound on the edge of his hearing made him look over his shoulder. The tire bounced, unscathed, onto a pile of rusty car parts.

Megamind made a vigorous arm-flapping motion at Minion to cut the music. Minion turned the boom box off. There was the sound of approaching sirens.

"Oh, dear," Megamind drawled. "The authorities. Whatever shall we do?"

They returned to the trusty van and soon left the sirens behind them.

* * *

In his bedroom, Wayne Scott sighed as the sirens reached his ears. He'd almost convinced himself that those muffled explosions were just some car or truck backfiring, but the sirens seemed to indicate otherwise. He turned up the music a little louder on his headphones and tried harder to concentrate on his history paper.

After a long, long talk with Dad about the importance of education, they worked out a compromise. Wayne was able to convince Dad to allow him to keep helping out the Metro City police, but only after he got all his homework done, and only if it didn't violate curfew. Serving the public good was all very well, Lord Scott declared, but the MCPD had been doing just fine before Wayne began "volunteering" to help out, and they could continue to do so without his help. The way that Lord Scott said "volunteering," it sounded on a par with going around smashing mailboxes or toilet-papering people's yards.

Wayne sighed again and cast a longing look toward the window. Maybe just a quick fly-over, to see what...no, he'd promised. Not until everything was finished. He wished his super-speed worked on class work. But it didn't seem to lend itself to super-fast thinking, or even writing, though you'd think it would, since writing at least was a physical act. He was still learning the enormity of his powers...and his limits.

He concentrated on his paper and tried again.

"Our founding fathers, when they heard about the Boston Massacre, felt real..."

'Felt real bad'? That didn't sound right. Maybe 'outraged.' Yeah, that was a good word.

_I'll bet Blue would've had this thing whipped in no time, _Wayne thought unexpectedly. Anyway, he called himself 'Megamind' now.

Wayne had, quite frankly, given very little thought to Megamind over the years, at least until the news broke about his escape. It disturbed him that the weird little blue kid really _had_ been living at the prison. He thought that he lived with the warden. Lord Scott said that it was because Megamind was so obviously a danger to society, a born criminal if ever there was one.

Wayne didn't like to contradict his dad because it was disrespectful. Certainly the law had to be obeyed or there would be chaos. He was not much given to introspection, but once in a while he thought that, if he were in Megamind's shoes, and had been locked away in prison all his life... _as if there could be a prison strong enough to hold me_, Wayne though smugly...then he might want to escape, too.

Such thoughts didn't sit right with Wayne, so he didn't worry about it too much. The law was the law, and that was that. Part of the fabric that held society together, like obeying your parents, and keeping your word. Wayne bent over his desk again and got back to work.

After a few minutes he began to idly write out a few names of his own.

… "The Defender"... "Muscle Man" (bleah)... "Metro City Boy" ...

* * *

Megamind and Minion came across a red 1969 Shelby GT 500. A Mustang! Just sitting there at the curb! Practically _begging _to be stolen.

There was some laughable excuse of a car alarm, which Megamind quickly squelched. No one paid attention to car alarms anyway, other than to curse them out and hope they quit making a racket.

"Can I have the key-o-matic, Sir?" Minion asked as Megamind began to climb into his new vehicle. "I need to pick up some supplies before the storm..."

"But of course, Filet Mignon!" Megamind proclaimed, tossing him the item in question. He hopped into his new car and took off with a squeal of tires for a quick spin around the metro.

* * *

As Minion pulled into the lair, he heaved a sigh of relief. The new Mustang was parked in the middle of the main floor. He parked the van next to the basement door and got out. He walked around the new car, searching carefully for signs of chaos, for any scrapes, dents, or bullet holes, but the vehicle seemed intact.

He went back to the van to begin carrying the bottled water downstairs. The strains of Black Sabbath, at a surprisingly low volume, greeted him when he entered the basement.

Megamind was busy at the computer.

"Sorry I'm late, Sir," Minion said. "Glad you made it back okay!" He soon had all the boxes, and bottles and things neatly arranged on the shelves. "I had a hard time finding what we needed. People really cleaned off the shelves. I had to go to eight different stores."

Minion edged past the computer, circumspectly trying to see what Megamind was working on.

"Working on that decryption code, Sir?" he asked. Megamind made an impatient gesture with one arm, shook his head, and went through a series of facial contortions which Minion interpreted as: Decryption boring. Have moved on. Attempting to process new idea. Do Not Bother Me.

Minion tiptoed away, biting his lip, his little heart beating a bit faster with anticipation. Sir was occupied! And from the look of it, he would be busy for quite some time. Now Minion could get a good look at those video games!

He hastily made a cup of cocoa, loaded it with extra marshmallows, and heated a microwave hot pocket. He put the food and the cup at Megamind's elbow and, because hope and optimism were ingrained in his psyche, he measured out some Good 'n' Bountiful Certified Organic Trail Mix into a bowl and placed that next to the hot pocket as well. Then he retreated to the television console and hooked up the game system.

It might have been better if Minion had at least tried to coax his master to turn his brilliant mind back to working on the decryption code, and unlocking the secrets of DPI, and uncovering some ammunition to use against Corbin. But Minion was young, too, his duties weighed heavily on him, and he wanted to relax.

There are times when the best action to take is no action at all.

This was not one of those times.

* * *

Three hours later, Megamind straightened up with a groan. He stretched and turned his head from side to side, working the kinks out. Mind control was looking to be a no-go. Controlling even a small number of construction workers to fix up the lair would be nearly impossible. The brainwashing and hypnotism tricks they showed in the movies just did not translate well to real life. Plus, all those people disappearing at once was a big red flag. He was uneasy about a bunch of strangers wandering around the lair in any case, even if they wouldn't be able to remember anything, and he wouldn't be able to guarantee that they wouldn't.

Even victims of mind control still had bodily functions that would need to be taken care of. They'd have to feed and shelter everybody, arrange for bathroom breaks, sleep schedules...what a headache!

No, he would have to go back to his original idea. To build machines to do the work.

He looked over to where Minion was playing video games and tried not to be annoyed. Well, he had given permission for Minion to delve into them when he found the chance, even if video games were a mind-numbing, brain-cell-killing, drone-producing waste of time.

Megamind looked at the formerly hot cocoa. It had turned to sludge. The hot pocket was ice cold. He made a face at the trail mix. This was something that he never wanted to eat even when it was fresh_, _and Minion had procured it weeks ago. He didn't care if it was natural. So was hemlock, and he wasn't about to scarf that down. The trail mix had _raisins _in it, and something called 'banana chips.' He got up to find something more appetizing.

There was half a jar of peanut butter left. He poured in some chocolate chips, butterscotch chips, and sprinkles, and stirred it around. It needed a little more. He threw in a few marshmallows.

Munching, he wandered over to the television, where Minion was doing battle on the screen.

Minion's shoulders jerked as he yanked the control panel around. Occasionally he muttered "aw, nuts!" as some action went haywire. Megamind slowed as he approached the couch. Minion was utterly captivated. Privately he thought that Minion should not engage in this mindless drivel. But the way Minion's eyes lit up when he sorted through the Tanaka case and its trove of video game proto-types had not gone unnoticed. He didn't have the heart to forbid it.

Megamind watched the action for a minute. Then: "You overshot."

"Huh?" Minion grunted. "Oh. Get next one."

Megamind glanced at him. The game appeared to be affecting Minion's vocal skills in a detrimental manner.

"There!" Megamind said abruptly. He waved a hand at the TV. "You missed that one too." He looked closely at Minion to gauge his reaction.

Minion, glassy-eyed, didn't even blink. "There's lots. Don't matter."

"What do you mean it doesn't matter?" Megamind cried. "You could have picked up another 500 points and three additional life-force capsules!"

There was a discouraging blat of music from the game. 'Game Over' flashed. Minion groaned and fell back into the couch.

"See?" Megamind sniffed.

Minion scowled at him in a most uncharacteristic fashion. "I'd like to see you do better," he muttered.

Megamind slowly turned to him, a crooked sneer on his mouth. "Move over," he said.

* * *

The warden pulled up to the apartment building and let the car idle. Soon the prison security chief came out of the door, zipping his coat against the cold.

"Thanks for the ride, John," he said, slamming the door.

"No trouble," said Parker. "When are you getting a new car?"

"Soon's my ex gets remarried, I win the lottery, and move to Florida," Schmidt said, grinning. "What a place this is turning out to be, huh? Now we got werewolves running all over!"

"It was only one," Parker muttered, then shook his head at how ridiculous that sounded. The feds were being very close-mouthed about the incident, and the news reports contradicted each other. A few things were clear though. A strange fur-covered man was seen dashing through the street, possibly chasing someone, or something, and then seemed to suffer a fit or seizure. He was quickly taken down by government agents of the Department of Paranormal Investigations, but it was unclear whether the agents had been tracking this man, or were his colleagues.

And Megamind had been spotted, too, in the same neighborhood about the same time. Could this wolfman be an associate of the boy's?

His wife Joyce refused to entertain such notions. The more they heard about Megamind's crimes, the less that Joyce believed it. While everyone else was prepared to believe the worst of him, Joyce went in the opposite direction and steadfastly refused to believe that he was anything other than the innocent victim of life's cruel circumstances. She maintained that it must all be some misunderstanding, and would all get sorted out at some point. After the boy was corralled, of course.

What worried Parker the most was the fact that federal agents were involved. The government had mostly kept its distance over the years, and Parker had expended a certain amount of effort to keep it that way, but Megamind's escapades were sure to have reactivated interest in the case. They could use this opportunity to claim that the security measures at the prison were inadequate, and use it as an excuse to take Megamind and Minion away forever.

And what was DPI? Parker had never heard of them before.

"Hey, stop here, I haven't had breakfast yet," Schmidt said.

"We're going to be late," Parker said.

Schmidt chuckled. "Just don't tell the boss," he said lightly.

Parker 'tch-ed' in both annoyance and amusement, and pulled in to the frontage road that led to the Kum 'n' Go. He pulled up to one of the gas pumps and turned off the motor. He topped off the tank while Schmidt went in to purchase a bagel and coffee. Parker passed him in the lot as he went in to pay.

"Why don't you just use a debit card?" Schmidt said. "Your bank will give you one, probably for free, even. Saves ya a lot of trouble. You can pay right at the pump. That way you don't have to waste time going inside." Schmidt had recently gotten a debit card and spoke about it at length with all the fervor of a religious convert. 'Paying for gas right at the pump' was his credo.

Parker resisted all efforts to change from a perfectly good system of paying by check, no matter how many times Schmidt told him that he was living in the stone age. Schmidt had long ago worn out the other guards with his proselytizing, especially the younger ones who had been using cards for ages. They had become quite capable at recognizing the glint of zeal in their superior's eye, and were extremely good at being busy when they saw him coming down the hall, so as to avoid lectures about the Wonders of Debit.

"Checks still work, the last I heard," Parker said, and walked on. He pushed open the door to the station, and walked into the overly bright lights and piped in muzak. There was an overstuffed garbage bag sitting next to the counter. A few items of refuse had escaped from the bag's opening and lay scattered on the floor.

Parker waited behind another customer, and looked thoughtfully at the young man behind the counter, trying to remember where he'd seen him before. By the time it was his turn, he'd placed him.

"Pre-law, right?" Parker said, smiling and pointing at him. He looked at the name tag. The guy hadn't been wearing one last time. "Ronnie."

Ronnie glanced up from the cash register, then looked down again and punched a few keys. "Oh, hey, Mr...warden."

"You can call me Mr. Parker," he said. "How's the tutoring? Coming along all right?"

Ronnie gave him a lopsided smile. "Uh, yeah. Yeah. It's going good."

Parker nodded amiably and bent over the counter to write out the check. As he turned to leave his foot kicked a ball of paper all the way to the door. "Oops," he muttered, and walked over to pick it up. The trash can by the door was closer. He tossed the paper into it and touched the handle to go outside and back to the car...

...a word on a crumpled fold caught his eye...

Parker dove after it, banging his shoulder on the hood of the trash can.

It wasn't even a whole word. Just 'oscil-'.

_But he would know that excited scrawl anywhere. _

He smoothed the wad of paper open, and began a slow steady cursing under his breath. It was a page torn out of a workbook, some kind of explanation on the first law of thermodynamics, and Megamind's handwriting filled the margins and covered the back of it. A crossed-out sketch of an 'oscillating trebuchet' was the largest drawing. There were doodles. And even a little drawing of Minion in the corner.

'Ronnie Jenkins' was written at the top.

He turned around. A young black woman was standing behind the counter. Ronnie was no where in sight and the garbage bag was gone.

"Can I help you?" the young woman asked, glancing up at him.

"Where is he?" Parker snapped. She blinked at him, startled by his angry tone.

"Ronnie," Parker said. "Your co-worker. Where is he?"

She pointed vaguely toward the back room. "He...just left. His shift's over. He...wait a minute, you're not supposed to..."

Parker was already walking through the swinging doors marked 'Employees Only'. He went through the dimly lit room, past sagging shelves and a cleaning cart, and out the back. He stood there blinking for a moment, and saw Ronnie unlocking his car.

Parker walked swiftly over and grabbed the open car door. Ronnie, who had been about to climb in, looked up with wide eyes.

"Where is he?" Parker demanded.

Ronnie gave a nervous chuckle and looked down and off to the side. "I-I don't who you're talking about," he said, his cheeks reddening. Parker held up the incriminating paper.

"This is Megamind's handwriting!" he said fiercely. "When was he here?"

Ronnie's mouth opened and closed a few times but nothing came out.

"You do know he's a minor, right?" Parker snapped. "And the whole police force is looking for him? That _I'm_ looking for him? Or don't you watch the news!"

He heard the sound of the station's back door squeaking open and looked over his shoulder. Ronnie's co-worker glared out at them.

"You okay?" she asked, giving Parker a stern look. "You know this guy, Ronnie?"

"It's all right, Tanya," Ronnie said quickly. "We're just talking." Clearly, Ronnie would have been much happier being pretty much anywhere else, but he obviously didn't want his co-worker overhearing this conversation.

Tanya, still frowning, slowly closed the door and went back inside.

Another suspicion tapped at Parker's mind. "Is this your 'tutor'?" he demanded. "What are you doing, paying him to help you cheat?"

"He just _does _it!" Ronnie burst out. "I asked him about a problem once, and he just did it all! And he's the one pay..." He stopped and grimaced, swallowing hard.

Parker stared at him, frowning. _"He's _paying? Paying _you?_ For what? The honor of doing your homework?"

Ronnie shrugged and made an exasperated noise. "He just...you know...gives me a little money to not tell anyone that he stops here. He always pays for stuff. Never steals anything. The homework thing..." Ronnie shrugged and grimaced again. "He thinks it's funny." And now a note of bitterness crept in. "It's easy for _him. _This one time, he said, 'Are you sure this is a college-level course? It does not seem very challenging. There's not even any mention of the...the Hindenburg Principle!'" Ronnie's impression was atrocious, but Parker could easily imagine Megamind scowling at a sheaf of pages, flipping through them with a superior sneer.

"Hindenburg Principle?" Parker said.

"Somethin' like that!" Ronnie cried. "I don't even know what he's talking about half the time!"

Parker looked at the creased page again. Curiosity reared its head. He struggled with himself, then gave in to the impulse.

"So...how...is the work coming along?" he asked. "Are your grades improving?"

Ronnie snorted. "Yeah. They're _too _good! I have to go back and put in some wrong answers. Some of the profs were getting suspicious."

Parker pressed his lips together in a thin line. Last year, after a tremendous amount of lecturing, badgering, and outright pleading, he convinced Megamind to take the GRE. Getting a high school diploma was so easily within the boy's reach. Any number of convicts had achieved this relatively simple step of improving their chances for a better life. And Parker begged him, _begged _him,to put his _legal _name at the top of the page, _just this once. _Otherwise the test wouldn't be valid. Writing 'John Doe' on a paper was not going to kill him.

Megamind capitulated, with a lot of groaning and eye-rolling.

It was arranged. Parker had wanted to observe, to make sure the boy behaved himself, but he didn't want to make the other test-takers nervous. Having one's warden in the room, sitting quietly in the corner, could put some convicts off their game. For some of these men, even the act of holding a pencil without breaking it was a monumental task, so Parker stayed away, but he heard the whole story later from one of the guards.

Megamind sat in the exam chair for several minutes, squirming, jiggling his leg, and drumming his fingers on the table. He twiddled the pencil, making it wag back and forth, and tapping it on the table, until a convict in the next seat told him to knock it off or he'd wrap the pencil around his scrawny neck.

The boy was motionless for a few moments. Then he scrawled 'Megamind' across the top of the page, in big block letters, and deliberately answered every single question wrong.

Some of the answers were really quite creative, and the obscene pictures in the margins were anatomically accurate, but of course the GRE was not the place to show off how creative you were, and so the boy failed.

And now, on a whim, because it no doubt amused him, Megamind was happily committing reckless acts of homework for this idiot. The fact that Ronnie was pre-law probably added to the hilarity.

Parker fixed Ronnie with a weary glare. "When did he last come in? Last night?"

Ronnie shuffled his feet a little and shook his head. "Naw. Couple nights ago. Maybe three," he mumbled. "I was cleaning out my folder. He always draws all over my..."

"You must have realized that all the money he's giving you has been stolen," Parker said. "Or did you think he'd saved it up from his paper route? And just how much are we talking about here? No, never mind, I don't even..." Parker sighed. Ronnie had gone paler than the snowflakes swirling around them.

"Are you going to call the cops? Am I in trouble?" Ronnie asked. His eyebrows were tilted up in a worried peak.

Parker rubbed his forehead. Tried to think. What would the police do, anyway? Arrest this idiot for knowingly receiving stolen money from an underage fugitive? Ronnie must be five or six years older than Megamind. Who was the adult here?

But people didn't think about that. Even the newscasters had stopped describing him as a runaway, or a teenage fugitive. Most people looked at Megamind and saw three things: blue, alien, dangerous. Which Megamind cheerfully exploited with gusto, especially the 'dangerous' bit.

Would the cops set up another useless stakeout? Parker had a feeling he'd pretty much used up all his influence over the case with his insistence on staking out the library.

"Do you have any idea where he is?"

Ronnie shrugged. He seemed to have an endless supply of shrugs. Perhaps he'd picked it up from Megamind. "He never says where he's going. Or Minion, neither."

Parker was probably going to regret this...but...

After digging around in his pockets he found a scrap of paper. He wrote his name and phone number on it.

"The next time Megamind comes in, give me a call. Please," he said, holding out the pathetic scrap. Ronnie very slowly lifted his hand and gripped it between thumb and forefinger as if it were a snake that might bite him. "I'm his legal guardian," Parker added, to see if he could grind it into Ronnie's conscience a bit more.

"He doesn't really...they never stick around for very long," Ronnie said. "And how am I gonna make a phone call without them noticing? Minion's _big._" Meaning, 'how am I going to make a phone call without Minion beating me up?'

Parker sighed. "Just do the best you can," he said. He looked at Ronnie for a moment longer, then turned to go back into the station.

As he passed by the counter, Tanya was helping another customer at the cash register, but she shot Parker a narrow-eyed look as he went past.

He went back to the car and slid into the front seat.

"Couldn't you hold it until we got there?" Schmidt griped. "You're the one who..."

Parker showed him the paper bearing the marks of Megamind's vigorous hand. Schmidt's eyebrows shot up. "Well, how 'bout that," he murmured. "My oh my."

"Can you believe this?" Parker snapped, starting the car.

"I take it, based on your agitated state, that this did not just happen to fall out of your little genius' pocket? He has passed through then?" Schmidt asked dryly.

"He's been hanging out at that hole in the wall for who knows how long!" Parker cried. "That night clerk? The one with the messy hair? He's pre-law. Megamind's doing his homework!" He pressed down on the accelerator.

Schmidt grabbed onto the dashboard with his free hand. "Easy, easy there," he murmured. "You want me to drive?"

"No!" Parker snapped. He eased off the gas. Traffic was pretty heavy, he didn't have much choice. A smattering of snowflakes clattered against the windows.

"Practically getting straight A's by the sound of it," Parker said. "All this time! And that punk never said anything!"

The wind increased, pressing on the car like a giant hand. Parker clung grimly to the wheel to keep it from drifting onto the shoulder. Several car lengths ahead of them, a semi truck and trailer rocked in the gale.

Schmidt muttered, "I'll bet we'll hear about one a those rigs tipping over before the day's done." He blew on his coffee and took a sip. "Pre-law," he chuckled. "That's diabolical, that is. Well...he oughta fit right in with the other lawyers!"

"Who, Megamind or Ronnie?" Parker muttered.

Schmidt looked at the paper again. "Oscillating treb-ah-chet," he read aloud. "Looks like a catapult to me."

"It's a treb-you-_shay,_" Parker said. "It's different. Catapult uses a wind-up mechanism. Trebuchet operates..." He waved his arm vaguely. "Some kind of a counter weight system." Being Megamind's foster father, he'd picked up a lot of weird little bits of information over the years.

Schmidt frowned. "You don't think he's going to build one of these things, is he?"

Parker shook his head. "How should I know? He's always drawing things like that. But it's all crossed-out. Maybe he gave up on it."

Schmidt nodded. "Well, just call Detective Buford. Let him decide what to do about it."

Parker was silent. Schmidt glanced at him. "You are, aren't you?" he said sharply.

Parker glared at the road.

"Because, on account of, it might look kinda funny," Schmidt said pointedly. "If you found out something about his whereabouts or activities, and failed to inform the authorities. You know?"

"What difference does it make!" Parker said. "Half of Metrocity knows something about 'his whereabouts and activities'! All those photographers. Are they going to arrest everyone who caught a glimpse of him and failed to phone it in?"

"It is because of your unique status, John," Schmidt said. "If a prosecutor gets wind of it, he could make things real uncomfortable for you. Could make a case that you're aiding and abetting." Schmidt looked out the window and took a bite from the bagel. "And you just said 'Metrocity', you know."

"I did not," Parker muttered. He glanced at Schmidt. "If...you could pretend you didn't see any..." He regretted showing the worksheet to Schmidt. He'd allowed his need to vent his frustration to overcome his judgment. It was possible that Schmidt might be held culpable as well.

Schmidt chuckled. "Me? I didn't see nothin'. I certainly did not see any signs of doodling that might have been done by a certain blue boy." His face grew serious again. "I hope you're not thinking of camping out at that place, John. Even if you did run into him by some miracle, you will never convince him to turn himself in." Both he and Parker knew that Megamind was the one who would need convincing. Minion would follow Megamind wherever he went, even into hell. Surely he would follow him back into prison.

"It might even be dangerous to confront him," said Schmidt.

Parker glanced at him in surprise. "He...they wouldn't hurt me," he said.

Schmidt shrugged. "He's gotten pretty bold, John, who knows how he'd react? And the two of you have a complicated history. I wouldn't risk it. Just tell the cops, that's my advice. Don't give yourself an ulcer."

Now it was Parker's turn to shrug. "I have to think about it."

Schmidt sighed and took another slurp of coffee. He leaned over to turn on the radio. Country music filled the air.

They still had a little ways to go, giving Parker plenty of time to fill up with nagging questions. Why hadn't he ever thought about asking Minion if _he _would like to take the GRE? Perhaps Minion would have liked a chance to prove himself. It probably would have goaded Megamind into actually finishing the damn thing, in the spirit of competition if nothing else.

_My wife is right, _Parker thought glumly. _I do always forget Minion. _

What was he going to do if Ronnie _did _call him in the middle of the night to tell him that Megamind and Minion were at his gas station?

This was hopeless. Most likely, they would be gone by the time he got there. Or if they were there, Megamind would grin his crooked grin and say, "Oh, I don't think so, warden." And leave. Maybe even shoot him. Hie didn't really believe that Megamind would react violently, though, despite Schmidt's concerns.

_But what do I know what he's capable of? So far as he's concerned, I'm the schmuck who's tried to keep him locked up his entire life, _Parker chided himself. _ He's not going to meekly follow me back._

* * *

"Gonna watch the game tonight? Come over to my place," Schmidt said as they walked across the prison's parking lot.

"Eh, I don't know," Parker said.

"Stevens and Corky are comin' over too. Come on, it'll be great! Corky always roots for Wisconsin."

Parker said, "I might have to go home around noon anyway, if the snow really does get that bad. Otherwise Joyce'll get upset."

Schmidt downed the rest of his coffee and threw the cup into a wastebasket inside the door. Before he turned to go down the hallway that led to his office, he said, "Guess we'll see how it goes then. Have a good day. And keep your lawyer on speed dial." With that cheerful bit of advice, they parted.

* * *

Megamind finally put the game controller aside, only because his stomach was threatening to devour itself. His limbs were practically frozen into permanent sitting position. Creakily he straightened his arms above his head and stretched his back. These games were _addictive._

He rubbed his hands together. It was rather cold in here. Why was it so cold? He checked the space heaters. They were all on, and seemed to be functioning normally, but the cold was coming off the basement walls in a vindictive wave.

"Minion?"he called. A while ago he vaguely recalled Minion getting up from the couch and saying something about checking on the weather, but Megamind had been so absorbed in the game that he barely heard him. He blew on his hands and went up the stairs to the main floor. He pulled the door open and a cloud of snowflakes blasted him in the face.

The main floor was a solid mass of white. Minion was using a piece of scrap metal to shovel an area around the van. Megamind's newly acquired vintage Mustang was half buried under a mound of snow.

"Thought that I would try to keep ahead of it a bit, Sir," Minion said, voice strained as he struggled to shift the heavy snow. Megamind stepped out onto the floor. It was over his knees. He waded to the back door. The snow level got shallower as he got closer to the wall. He strode the last few steps and pulled the door open.

A waist-high wall of snow had built up against the door. He looked out at the whirling flakes. They were snowed in.

* * *

_**End notes: Obviously, the Hindenburg was the famous German airship that burned to the ground on May 6, 1937, and has nothing to do with quantum physics. Ronnie was thinking of (or trying to think of) the Heisenberg uncertainty principle, which states that it is impossible to know an object's exact momentum and position**__**.**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Author's notes: This chapter became incredibly long. I have taken pity on the reader, and divided it into two parts.**_

* * *

_**"Everyone talks about the weather, but no one does anything about it." -Mark Twain**_

* * *

Chapter 14

The late winter storm was a test of Midwestern fortitude. If a major blizzard had to hit, everyone wondered, why did it have to happen now, when spring was just around the corner, instead of back in January or December when such storms were _supposed _to occur?

The storm closed airports across three states and Ontario. It snowed for two days. Schools and government offices were closed. There were blackouts in some towns as the high winds blew over power lines. Gradually the snow eased, and stopped.

The streets were cleared and salted. Electrical crews fixed the downed poles, power was restored, and everyone hoped the worst was over.

But it was only a brief respite. Midwesterners tended to view bad winter weather as a nuisance, the price to be paid for living at northern latitudes. Many heeded the weather warnings and stayed put, but others attempted to return to their normal routines, out of desperation or recklessness, and so were caught out when the storm started up again.

Another foot of white death fell on Metro City and the surrounding countryside. The budding young hero of Metro City was kept busy rescuing people trapped in their cars on the highways, and even right in the middle of town. When the crews were at their wits' end trying to find new places to _put _all the snow they were struggling to shift off the roads, Wayne Scott obligingly used an old dump truck to ferry mounds of the stuff out into the country, and out onto the frozen lake.

He didn't restrict himself to Metro City. Wayne flew all over the Midwest and Canada doing what he could to help. He hauled away trees that fell over roads. He rescued people from their homes when the roofs collapsed under the weight of the snow. He happened to be in the right place at the right time to catch a small private plane before it crashed to the ground, right on the edge of the storm system. The pilot was overconfident about his abilities and had underestimated the severity of the winds.

Wayne saved enough people to populate a small town, as well as six dogs, two cats, a herd of horses, and a very confused moose that wandered into downtown Grand Rapids. But even he couldn't be everywhere at once, and the storm caused the deaths of three people and injured dozens more, through accidents and exposure.

When it finally _really _stopped snowing, the winds grew even worse, causing blowing and drifting snow to cover sidewalks and block doorways and windows. People had to find their cars by memory, because all the drifts along the curbs looked the same, but there was no need to search for buried cars because the streets were so thick with snow that hardly anyone could travel. The snow piled shoulder-high along streets, some of it the work of the plows, some of it courtesy of the winds. In some places it towered over people's heads, creating block after block of snow canyons.

Temperatures plummeted to arctic levels.

In the lair, the space heaters did their best, but the cold pressed in, bearing down from the ceiling and the walls. Whatever was closest to the heaters received the benefit of the warmth. A sheen of frost glittered on surfaces on the perimeter of the basement. Winter was encroaching from all sides. The lair was turning into an ice palace.

Megamind wore grooves in the floor with incessant pacing. The video games lay idle, their appeal gone in the face of the catastrophe. He flickered through countless Internet sites, barely registering the words and images. He rummaged around his half-finished inventions, tinkering here and there, muttering about not being able to find anything and wondering out loud when Minion was going to get the place organized.

Minion padded about the lair, always available, but edging away from the maelstrom of nervous energy as much as seemed prudent.

Currently, Megamind was sprawled across the couch, watching the latest weather report.

"...high pressure system here, which has stalled out over southern Ontario means we'll be seeing at least...hold on to your hats, folks...another four days of subzero temperatures."

Megamind groaned so loudly that the rest of the weatherperson's words were obscured.

"Another. Four. Days," he grated through his teeth. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fists against his head.

_I don't know. I really don't,_ Minion thought gloomily. _What part of "I had to go to eight different stores" and "People really cleared off the shelves" did he not understand?_

The blizzard had taken Megamind completely by surprise. Minion knew it was a sort of tunnel vision. Sometimes Megamind got so focused on his projects that insignificant details like massive deadly weather systems escaped his attention.

_Nope. What's a little snow? _Minion grumbled to himself. _He always leaves it up to me to get our food stockpiled, to make sure we have enough water... _

Minion looked at the gallon jugs that held their water supply, which were grouped around one of the space heaters. The rest were crowded into the fridge so they wouldn't freeze. He was not thrilled with being trapped indoors either, but at least he'd been mentally prepared for the possibility of a long...well, incarceration was as good a word as any.

It was proving to be a much greater trial for Megamind, who hadn't. He'd gotten used to being able to come and go as he pleased, and now he was stuck.

"Looks like this is shaping up to be one of the worst cold snaps in Metro City's history!" the weather person announced with grim cheer. "Winds will be gusting at up to forty miles per hour. Exposed skin can get frostbitten in as little as ten minutes, so if you _must _go outside, bundle up. The temperature you see on the screen is the air temperature, folks! Yes, it really is 28 degrees below zero. With the wind chill, that's minus 45."

The temperature guage on the screen blipped from -28 to -30.

Megamind tossed the remote onto the couch and got to his feet. He was wearing so many layers that his arms were pushed out from his sides. He had the parka on too, and even wore the hated hood. He meandered over to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. It was immediately pushed shut by Minion.

"You had a snack ten minutes ago," Minion said, holding the door closed with a straight arm.

"Get this appliance open immediately!" Megamind snapped.

"We need to conserve our food."

"But you stocked up right before the storm hit," Megamind said. Minion was mildly surprised. _ So he was listening to me, a little bit, _he thought. _As I trudged up and down the stairs, hauling supplies. _

"Yes, that's true, Sir, and you've eaten half of it already," Minion said. "You're just bored."

"Don't tell me what I am! Stand aside," Megamind said, yanking on the door handle. Minion's feet were planted and it was like trying to shift a Buick.

Minion had prepared himself for this, and sucked in a huge breath of water to steady himself. "Sir, we really need to conserve food," he repeated.

Megamind gave Minion the full force of his disapproving glare. Minion avoided his gaze and stared at the wall, but he didn't budge. If Megamind ordered him to stand aside again, he didn't know if he'd be able to resist it. He trembled with the effort of disobedience.

"I _could _short-circuit you, you know," Megamind said, narrowing his eyes.

Minion bit his lip.

Megamind turned away and agitated around the room. He knew that Minion was right, but he would rather cut off his own arm than admit it. He blew on his hands and rubbed them together, looking for something to vent his frustration on. He stopped by the bookshelves and shuffled through the books.

"Too many books," he muttered. He looked at one hefty tome and pulled it off the shelf.

"What is this!" he demanded. Minion came over to look at it. "Vegetables of History? How did this get in here?"

Minion shrugged and grinned nervously. "I must've... scooped it up by accident, Sir."

"Waste of space. I suppose we could always burn it for fuel when civilization comes to an end. Along with the granola," Megamind grumbled. He snatched another suspicious book off the shelf.

"Sewing for Dummies," he said. "Is this some sort of joke?"

Minion shifted uneasily. He'd been a bit puzzled at first by the book's title as well, but it had been in amongst the other "how-to" books, and the information it contained seemed straightforward.

"Oh, that! Well, I think the title is sort of a joke, but it's got some really good information in there, Sir," he said. "There's a whole series of 'em, like, Photography for Dummies, Cooking for Dummies..."

"What's next, Thinking for Dummies? I think I get the picture," Megamind said. "I'm surprised at you, Minion. It's positively insulting! You're no dummy. You shouldn't subject yourself to..." He paused, and cocked his head.

"What's that noise?" he asked.

Minion listened. Now that they were away from the TV, he could hear a bit of noise on the edge of his hearing.

"Dunno," he said. "It sounds like whirring. Oh! It's coming from my chest."

Megamind came close and put his ear against the front panel of Minion's robot suit for several seconds. Without speaking he turned and went to the worktable.

"Come here, Minion," he said. Minion dutifully trundled over. Using a screwdriver, Megamind removed the front panel. The whirring grew louder. Reaching into the core of the metallic chest, he moved aside a few coils of wire. It seemed to Minion that he stared into the cavity for a long time.

"I don't suppose you know how to hibernate, do you?" Megamind said in a rather distant voice.

"Um. No, I don't think so," Minion said. "I never tried. Why?"

"Do you think you could learn? Really quickly?" he said.

* * *

_I should have run a complete diagnostic after the fight, _Megamind berated himself. The struggle with Freezer Burn must have put tremendous strain on Minion's temperature regulator and heating elements. One of the heating coils wasn't working at all and the other was sparking. It definitely should not be sparking. Now this massive, ongoing cold snap had overtaxed the whole heating system, and brought it to the end of its life.

Megamind wished he had thought of a different phrase.

"How is it that I don't have a single condenser or heating coil in the entire place!" he shouted in frustration. He slammed the box down on the table, crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at the scattered components. He should've started work on the new robot body by now. Constructing the core would have been the first step, and then he would've had all the parts on hand, including the parts for the heating system, and they wouldn't be in this mess. Minion wouldn't be in this mess.

Minion stood nearby, a hulking heap of misery. Hands clasped to the front of his bowl, he watched Megamind and tried not to hover. The whirring noise had taken on an unpleasant grinding overtone. Grinding noises were not a very good sign.

Megamind drummed his fingers on the table. He could cannibalize one of the space heaters for parts. It would be a stand alone system, though, and would be attached to Minion like a portable iron lung. And it would take some time to put together, hours, maybe even days.

There were a few more pathetic whirring sounds, and the temp regulator gave a final whine and died.

That was it, then. There wasn't time to build anything. Megamind dragged the touch-safe space heaters together. He arranged four of them in a rough semi-circle by the television, and got them all plugged in with extension cords.

"Come here," he ordered. "Sit."

Minion settled himself down in among the heaters, the island of warmth.

"There! Nothing to it. The heaters should kick out enough heat to keep your water in a liquid state," Megamind said, nodding. "We just need to sit tight until..."

The lair went black.

"...the power goes out," Megamind said.

* * *

Minion shivered in his bowl. Megamind ordered him to stay put, and made his way across the lair by feel and went to get a flashlight out of the van. Minion saw the dim light at the top of the stairs as Megamind went out onto the main floor. Though the light from the main floor did little more than give a gray sheen to the top steps, Minion was glad that he had left the door open.

He knew that his water couldn't possibly be freezing already, but he imagined he could feel the temperature of the water slowly falling, degree by degree. The space heaters gave off gentle 'pok' sounds as they cooled. The wind howled. Snowflakes blew in through the gray rectangle at the top of the steps.

_What's keeping him? He must be taking a look around, _Minion thought. And he thought about whiteouts, and how people could get lose their way in blinding snow, and freeze to death only feet from their own doors...

Minion began to stand up, but then Megamind's shadow fell on the steps, the flashlight casting its light ahead of him. Relieved, Minion sat down again.

"How's it look out there, Sir?" he cried.

"The snow plows haven't been by," Megamind said. The street they were on was not exactly a high priority for the work crews. They'd heard a plow go by only once, and that was yesterday. The high winds had blown huge drifts back over the road, and it was as impassable as if the plow had never been there.

"I can dehydrate the snow in the alley and we could make it to the street, but I don't know how well it would go, if I have to hang out the window, dehydrating snow from our path all the way down the streets." He shook his head. Frostbite, exposure, why, he'd freeze solid. Even this brief venture into the outdoors made his bones ache, as if his coat and many layers offered no protection at all. And he had no idea how far the power outage extended. The nearest store where Megamind could hope to find the necessary components for a new temp regulator was miles away. A mere jaunt, if the roads were clear. But who knew how many hours it would take now?

They could sit in the car or the van, heaters running. The factory was so big, and the hole in the roof offered plenty of fresh air, hah, it did indeed, there was not much fear of them dying of carbon monoxide poisoning. Until the gas ran out, and they'd be in the same fix as before.

He walked over to Minion. "I think I can cobble together a backup generator, but it's going to take a while." He paused and looked Minion in the eye. "I'll have to dehydrate you," he said.

Minion waved his fins and turned his little worried eyes to Megamind. "But...I don't...you'll be alone. I want to help," he said miserably.

"You're not going to be any help when you turn into a popsicle!" Megamind snapped. "How am I supposed to keep you from freezing? With my winning personality? I can get it done, Minion. Once it's completed, I'll rehydrate you."

"But out of what? We don't have any engines, except..." Then Minion remembered. "Oh. Um. The van, or the new one? But how will you get the engine down here? You have to at least let me carry it down here for you, Sir!"

Megamind nodded.

Even working as quickly as they could to unbolt the engine from Megamind's beautiful new Mustang (despite being the older vehicle, the previous owner had kept it in top-notch shape, and it was in better condition than the van's engine), frost thickened on Minion's dome and he was shivering by the time it was detached. Minion's joints creaked as he hoisted the engine in his arms. He walked carefully down the steps into the lair. It posed no real physical strain on him, since the robot body was doing all the work, but he had to concentrate all the same.

"Put it there, Minion," Megamind said. Minion set it on the floor. "Why, just think! It'll seem like no time at all has passed when I rehydrate you, and the lair will be cozy once again!" He smiled encouragingly, and Minion did his best to smile back.

"Just remember to eat when you're hungry, Sir," he said, when Megamind raised the de-gun.

Megamind sighed and let his arm fall to his side. "All right, Minion. Now then..."

"But try not to sleep," Minion said quickly, as the de-gun was pointed at him again. "I've heard where people go to sleep and don't wake up when..."

"Minion," Megamind growled. Minion shut his mouth.

"Okay, I'm ready, Sir," he said, and Megamind shot him.

He didn't get to work right away. He picked up the cube from the floor and sat down on the couch for a minute, in the dark, cradling it in his hand. It was silly, but he didn't want to leave it sitting around. He put it into his coat pocket, and felt a little better for having Minion close.

He rolled up his sleeves, figuratively speaking, and got to work.

* * *

Megamind retrieved more flashlights from the van and arranged them around the work space. He labored to take apart the engine and transform it into something that would save their lives. He had to pull his gloved hands into his sleeves and clamp them against his body at regular intervals until the ache went away and he could hold the tools again.

He took breaks for food and water, though he didn't feel much like eating. The flashlights began to burn out. He had to search the lair for more batteries. He nodded off a couple of times, standing up, and awakened when his head bounced off the engine block.

Building a fire for warmth began to seem less like a joke and more like a good idea but he had a gnawing fear that he would doze off in front of the warm flames and never wake up again.

It was lonely work, with only the flashlights for company, and no TV or radio or Minion to talk and complain to.

The howling wind gradually ceased, but by then he was too absorbed in the work to take much notice.

* * *

When it was complete, he rehydrated Minion.

The backup generator sat in the middle of the room, growling like a mechanical tiger. There was a crystalline frost over every surface in the lair. Moisture dripped off the space heaters as they began to warm up again. The TV chattered and glowed in the background. Megamind was going around the lair, turning all the lights on. All that time in the dark had left him hungry for light. He planned to gorge on it.

Megamind wiped his greasy face with a towel. There were circles under his eyes. Minion looked around the lair. When he was dehydrated the winds had made the whole building creak and shake, but now it was quite still. It was _very _cold. He would have to settle himself next to the space heaters again, but not just yet. There was a subtle tension in the air that suggested that Megamind was not open to any fussing and coddling, so Minion turned his attention to the generator.

"Ooo, nice work, Sir! Fantastic remodeling. I like how you arranged the pulleys."

Megamind straightened a little under the praise. "Naturally, Minion, it's a marvel of engineering, if I do say so myself."

Minion inspected the generator again. "What are you using for fuel?"

Megamind pointed. "Look down into the top."

Minion leaned over to take a look. The BINKEY from the de-gun glowed within.

"Oh, Sir!" he cried in distress. "First your new car, and now your gun?"

"Don't get all weepy," Megamind said. "I can easily remove it when I need to, and put it back in the de-gun." He gestured to where the gutted weapon lay on a work table.

Then the newscast from the TV came to his attention.

"...has been shot! Confirmed reports that the man claiming to be responsible for this deadly storm was taken out by a sniper less than an hour ago."

Megamind sank slowly down onto the couch. The television cut to a scene showing a snow-covered street in a residential area, a row of one-story houses. A car and two trees were smoldering the the snowy street, and there were numerous police cars, fire engines, and assorted emergency personnel milling around. The caption on the bottom of the screen read "Des Moines, Iowa."

"A woman and two children believed to be the Weather Wizard's estranged family were removed from the house, unharmed. The mayor of Des Moines was..."

"Weather Wizard?" Megamind said, perplexed. "What is all this?" How many days had passed?

Now they were showing footage of the man himself. A man in a padded jacket was standing on a roof. He was having some difficulty maintaining his balance, and his scraggly beard streamed in the wind. He was shouting at someone down in the street, but his words were blown away. Megamind frowned. If this bozo had really started the storm, he didn't seem to be in control of it any longer. The figure on the roof shuffled around shaking his fist, his feet digging furrows in the deep snow. As he turned toward the microphones, they could pick up some of his tirade.

"How do you like me now, Gabby? This enough potential for ya! Huh! This enough? How do you like me now?" he screamed. There was some more unintelligible shouting from a megaphone off camera, and the man turned toward the sound. He straightened as much as the buffeting winds would allow, and raised his arm. Electricity crackled around his clawed hand, and the picture shook and wobbled as the camera man and everybody else took cover, but the camera still managed to capture it when the electrical charge shot out of the Weather Wizard's hand and struck a tree, splitting it in two. The Weather Wizard waved his arms wildly and almost fell off the roof.

Megamind shook his head. What an idiot! He was so clearly out of control.

They cut back to the anchorwoman. "After taking his family hostage, the Weather Wizard demanded five million dollars, and safe passage to Mexico. Unresponsive to police negotiators, and under the advice of an undisclosed government agency, the decision was made to call in the sniper. The Weather Wizard's real name is Philip Larsen. He is in serious condition, and under heavy guard, at the hospital. His ex-wife, Gabby Larsen, is being questioned by police, and was unavailable for comment.

"Based on the opinions of several meteorologists, it is now believed that it's highly unlikely that Philip Larsen could have been responsible for this massive snowstorm."

They cut to a somber, weasel-faced man, tie askew. "Iowa is much too far away from the storm center," he declared in a voice drier than ten thousand year old paper. "And I think that once this so-called Weather Wizard was taken out, the storm system would have dissipated! This obviously did not happen. I think what we have here is someone trying to take credit where it definitely is _not _due, and attempting to profit off other people's misery. Despite his ability to control lightning, I seriously doubt..."

"He wasn't controlling lightning, you moron!" Megamind cried, waving his arms at the TV. "He was producing electricity! Either from his own electromagnetic field or from a device hidden under his clothes! Idiot. They're all idiots." He slumped back in the couch, scowling.

"Thank you, Dr. Wiley. This incident has ignited a lot of debate about the best way to deal with dangerous super-powered individuals. And now a message from Senator Traut of Colorado."

A scowling pasty man appeared on the screen. "It's my understanding that this Philip Larsen has had this ability since childhood, but hardly anyone knew about it! How do we know who has these powers and who doesn't? They're undetectable by metal detectors. Some super-powered nut could sneak in anywhere!"

Megamind rolled his eyes. "I'm sure every criminal and terrorist in the world has just gotten a few bright ideas about now," he said with a sneer. "Nice job, Senator Troutface. I can see why those "Dummies" books are so popular, Minion."

"...proposing we initiate a nation wide registration program for these 'supers'," the senator was saying. "So that we know exactly who is who. I'm sure the good people of Iowa would back me on that."

"The American Civil Liberties Union has called the proposal unethical, and claims that it is an invasion of privacy," said the anchorwoman.

A different woman, her hair tied back in a severe bun, appeared onscreen, clearly annoyed. "What does Senator Traut suggest? That we test every child in the nation? That we slap a big 'S' on everyone who has super powers? Or maybe we could just use big yellow stars, like the Nazis."

They cut back to the anchorwoman. "Senator Traut's office released a statement saying that the reference to Nazi Germany was uncalled for and in very bad taste, and that the Senator has deep concerns for the welfare of the nation. The President is expect..."

Megamind turned the channel. "Go without power a couple of days and you miss everything," he muttered. He flipped through several stations. Something caught his attention and he quickly flipped back.

It was a picture of Wayne Scott, smiling big. Megamind perched on the edge of the couch, leaning on his knees.

"After clearing away downed trees and branches that had blown over Lakeview Drive, Metro City's own hometown hero had a surprise announcement."

Wayne was standing in some hallway or other, talking into a microphone. "Well, I just thought, hey, a lot of guys are called Wayne, you know, and maybe, you know, it was time for a change, time for something catchy, you know?"

"We all know! Get on with it!" Megamind snapped.

"I thought a good, catchy name was needed, you know, so from now on, when I'm, you know, working, and somebody needs my help they can call on me. They can call on Metro Man." And Wayne flashed a smile at the camera.

Megamind's mouth fell open. He and Minion looked at each other. Minion's eyebrows were at the top of his head.

"Metro Man," Megamind said with a sneer. "How original."

"Why not Metro Boy?" the reporter asked.

Wayne shrugged and chuckled. "Well, I'll be a legal adult in about..." he paused, turned his head to the side a little. His lips moved.

"Eighteen months, you big lummox!" Megamind yelled.

"A little less...than...two years," Wayne said. "I wanted to keep it simple. When I come of age I'd have to change it anyway. I don't want to confuse the public, you know."

"Because goodness knows they're confused enough!" Megamind said, snorting in derision. "Why, a big change like that would have them scratching their heads for months! 'Whatever happened to Metro Boy? And who's this Metro Man?'"

Minion snickered at the impression. "I'll bet he's copying you, Sir," he said loyally. "With the double 'M'? Ha!"

The reporter asked, "And how do your parents feel about this?"

Wayne's smile slipped a bit. He shrugged and said, "Uh..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well..."

Megamind turned the TV off. "What time is it?" he demanded. "What _day _is it?" Without waiting for an answer he got to his feet and stormed around the room, gathering clean clothes. "Where's my go-to-get-clean bag?" The bag held Megamind's toothpaste, soap and shaving kit. He shaved twice a week whether he needed it or not. More often not, but it was good to keep up the habit. This depended on how often he could get to a working bathroom. Trying to shave in a mixing bowl with ice cold water had long ago lost its charm.

Laboring over that makeshift generator had produced a thin layer of grime on his person, seemingly _everywhere, _in complete disregard of the fact that the lair had become so cold that even penguins would freeze. It was so utterly, abominably _cold. _ Couldn't his darn sweat glands understand that?

He wanted a _shower. Now. _

"The second that street is cleared, Minion, we are _going, _ I don't care if it's high noon, I am filthy,and grimy, and..."

He stopped in the middle of the floor and turned his head, listening. Minion could hear it, too. It was the sound of a truck, and the steady scrape of a heavy piece of metal dragging along the ground. Megamind's face broke into a smile.

"The plow!" he shouted. Laughing, he grabbed Minion's arms and twirled him around a couple times.

"Let's get that alley cleared!" Megamind cried, dashing for the de-gun. Minion caught him as he flew by and wrapped him in a bear hug, but carefully.

"Wait, wait, wa-a-a-a-ait," he said, grinning. "At least let the plow go by, Sir."

And so they waited for another interminable two hours, to give the snow plow time to finish its first pass down the street, and to come back around to clear the other side, Megamind threatening to dehydrate Minion again, but in a good-natured sort of way.

* * *

It was a little after nine o'clock at night when it was safe to emerge. Megamind turned off the generator, removed the BINKEY, and reassembled the de-gun. He nearly froze, blasting the wretched snow of the alley, but it gave him a great deal of satisfaction. Minion edged the van forward bit by bit, as Megamind exacted vengeance on the snow drifts.

They made it to the cleared street, and roared off into the frigid night. Tendrils of loose snow trickled across the streets.

Their first stop was the Electro Shack. They had forgotten the key-o-matic in all the excitement of being freed from the lair, so Megamind picked the lock, scooped up the components while the alarm blared, and got out.

In the back of the van a good distance away, Megamind fitted Minion with a new regulator and replaced the heating system.

The next item was to locate a suitable place for Megamind to shower, before he drove Minion crazy.

* * *

_**I suppose the good thing about having such a long chapter and having to divide it in half is that, hopefully, the next half will not take quite so long to revise. We'll see how that goes.**_

_**Young Metro Man comes across as a bit of a muttonhead, but at this point no one has really challenged him intellectually. Not yet. In the movie, he moves his lips when he reads.**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**"It's amazing the things that seem a good idea at the time." -Terry Pratchett**_

* * *

Chapter 15

The burning dormitory blazed merrily. Flames blazed on two midlevel floors on one side of the building. Smoke gushed out of the windows.

"Wow, and we didn't even do anything," Minion muttered.

They sat in the van and watched the bonfire from behind a mountain of snow. The university campus was swarming with displaced students, police officers, and firefighters.

"Maybe we can use this to our advantage," Megamind said, brightening. "Our objective is the gymnasium. We could still sneak around back while everyone is out here looking at the blaze."

"No, I think they're sending people there, to get them out of the cold," Minion said, watching the shivering, hunched students straggling along.

Then people began shouting, and pointing skyward, and an enormous cistern swung through the air. Wayne was barely visible underneath it. Metro Man.

He flew higher above the inferno. He tilted the cistern and the slow stream of water landed on the flames with a dull roar. Geysers of smoke poured into the night sky. People cheered and clapped.

Megamind made a face. "Showoff," he muttered. He slumped in his seat. "Well, I'm not going to Wally's Workout World again! That place'll give me athlete's foot."

Minion scratched his dome. "Um...there's the trucker's stop on Highway 23. No?" Megamind pressed his lips together and shook his head.

On the campus, Wayne had set the cistern down. People surged toward him, laughing and talking.

"Let's try the high school," Megamind said.

* * *

But the scene at the high school was busy too, though for a different reason. A volleyball tournament had just been completed. Despite the difficult driving conditions, the weather was deemed passable, and the game had already been postponed once because of the storm. The schools had been reopened that day, so the game had gone ahead.

There were a lot of people hanging around, braving the frigid temperatures. Even the most austere conditions can seem routine after a while, and the citizens of Metro City had been cooped up indoors for the better part of a week. In truth, the weather had moderated; it was 1 degree, the first time it had been above zero for days. This was an opportunity to get outside and socialize.

Megamind practically had a fit.

"Why don't these people go home!" he exclaimed. "It's freezing out here, you idiots! Your stupid event is over, obviously, or you wouldn't all be wasting your time standing around jawing! Go home!" This was intolerable! Lack of sleep had stripped his patience to bare wires. And he was _itching._ He squirmed in his seat.

On a different night he might have felt dejected, seeing the other teens joking around with their friends, gravitating around their parents and siblings. On another night he might have felt a stab of poignancy, knowing he would forever be an outsider. But not tonight. Tonight these dolts were all that stood between him and cleanliness.

He felt no relationship at all with these teenagers. The gawky, over-sized boys who went around with their jackets flapping open and punched each other on the arms, the shrill-voiced girls chewing gum, who shrieked and complained about the cold, but made no sign that they were going to move on into warmer environments.

Megamind watched the festivities for a little while longer, then made an executive decision. "Move the van around back," he ordered.

"Oh, I don't know, I think maybe..." said Minion nervously.

"I'm just going to take a look," Megamind said. "Drive."

They drove around the block and approached the high school from a back street. Megamind gathered his kit and slipped out into the icy night. There was, indeed, no one around the back, though the sounds of talk and laughter that drifted over from the front parking lot made Minion extremely nervous.

There was a single excessively bright light that illuminated the parking lot. The door that Megamind had chosen was in such a deep recess it was like a cave, and about as dark.

Megamind worked at the lock with a pick. Minion fidgeted.

"Hold that flashlight steady," Megamind said. "We would be inside by now if _somebody _hadn't forgotten the key-o-matic."

"How do we know the locker rooms are empty? I don't think they clean them very well here, either, Sir, can't you get athlete's foot somewhere else? I really think..."

"I will do the thinking here, Minion," Megamind murmured, turning his attention back to the lock. His gloved fingers ached with cold. He pulled them into his ghastly sleeves and clenched them into fists to get a little blood flowing.

He was sick of giving way, of skulking and sneaking around, of waiting for ordinary schmucks to finish their business so he could just do something as normal as get a shower once in a while. The weight of the de-gun was a comforting presence in his coat pocket, within immediate reach. He had foregone the holster this time because of all the excessive layers of clothing. Getting to the de-gun under all that could take upwards of half an hour.

_Any janitors or loiterers around, they are __**cubed,**_he thought to himself, reaching for the lock again.

The burst of high-pitched laughter made him whirl around. Minion clicked off the light.

A gaggle of girls hove into view, chattering, their breaths making clouds in the frosty air. Five of them. They gathered by a low metal fence and settled in.

Megamind and Minion stood rigid with alarm. He couldn't even keep working on the door. It wasn't that noisy, but they might hear the little snickety sounds of metal on metal. And once he got it open, he felt a grim certainty that it would creak loudly enough to wake the dead. In accordance with the ancient laws of the hidden, he began to itch worse than ever.

"Now what, Sir?" Minion whispered out of the corner of his mouth. Megamind grimaced and shook his head a fraction. The light must be in the girls' eyes, but it was possible they would catch a movement, and he and Minion would be spotted. Could he shoot all five of them at once? Highly doubtful. The commotion would be tremendous.

Then one of the hooded girls turned to one of her friends, smiling and laughing, and all the blood rushed to his face.

It was _Her._

He couldn't see her lovely braid, but he recognized the girl he'd crashed into outside the Chinese restaurant, her square features softly rounded by her hood.

It was the first time he heard Her Voice.

"Cheryl, you're such a ditz!" the girl giggled. "Polly wouldn't do that!"

"She did! I saw her," Cheryl replied.

"Prove it," the girl said.

"Yeah, get some pictures," one of the others chimed in. The girls shrieked with laughter.

A blue Camaro with no muffler roared to a halt by the curb. A boy leaned out the passenger side and brayed "Hey, wanna party? I got it right here, girls!"

"Kiss my ass, Browning!" one of the girls yelled.

"Yeah, Brown-noser!"

"Up yours!"

"You wish! Loser!"

"Screw you!"

Megamind's hand gripped the handle of the de-gun. Minion creaked slightly as he clenched and unclenched his fists. Those were _fightin' _words. If they were in the prison yard, guys would be making a circle around the contestants. Sometimes a fight could happen so fast there wasn't even time for that. The loser could be looking for his teeth in a matter of seconds.

What if the boys attacked? He felt a strange compulsion to defend the girls. Those boys were obviously scumbags! The girls might need protection! Where this impulse of chivalry came from he couldn't have said.

No one was moving in for the kill, even though some major insults were getting thrown around. There must be some different rules in effect here.

He remembered what it had been like among the kids back at the Lil' Red Shoolhouse. Come to think of it, girls hadn't been much given to actual physical contact there either. The teacher didn't allow real fighting to take place...much...though Megamind had learned at great cost that there were countless other sneaky little ways to inflict pain. Girls tended to make scathing remarks, while boys were more likely to sucker punch.

After a final insult the Camaro took off with a screech of tires.

The girls returned to their huddle, trading their views on the boys in the Camaro, all of them negative.

But Megamind was unable to pay much attention, because another matter began to make its presence felt, with increasing urgency.

"Minion, I have to go to the bathroom," he whispered.

"What, _now?_"

"Yes, now! Well...soon. Why do you think I brought it up?" Megamind hissed.

Minion gave an annoyed little exhalation. "I swear, Sir, your bladder's shrunk."

"Well, excuse me, Mr. Self-cleaning-bowl! Some of us have to plan how to take care of these little matters! I've been holding it in for six hours!" Megamind whispered through gritted teeth.

"You should've gone at the lair."

"I hate those buckets! I thought we'd have visited a bathroom by now!"

"Well, what's the plan?" Minion said wearily.

Megamind huffed out a breath. So much for not creating a commotion. He had to get out of there. He stabbed a finger at Minion. "You, my scaly friend, yes _you, _will go out there and scatter those females, at once!"

"What? Why me?" Minion whispered, eyes wide.

"Because I said so!" Megamind said. The truth of the matter was he was aware of how grimy he was. He was sure that he looked ridiculous in his too-big coat with its fuzzy hood. He hadn't much cared for Minion's snide remark about shrinking bladders, either. And besides, _She _was there. The thought of her turning those big eyes on him in his current state made his stomach do a slow turn. Which was stupid. It made no sense. But his heart was thudding as if it were the first night he'd stepped out the prison gate.

"Get out there right now! That is an _order_, Minion!" Megamind set his jaw.

Minion winced. He looked over at the girls to see if maybe they were getting ready to disperse on their own, but no such luck. He sighed, and put on his 'monster' face, and lumbered out with a growl.

Commotion does not even begin to describe the uproar.

Though in later years Megamind would become an expert at inciting terror in the populace, that night at the high school taught him one important caveat. If you are within twenty feet of a group of teenage girls, _do not _make them scream, especially if you are standing within a confined space and are not wearing high-quality ear plugs.

He and Minion somehow made it back to their vehicle, hearts pounding like jackhammers. They drove in silence for a while.

Megamind rubbed his ears. "How many decibels do you think that was?"

"I can't believe there were only five," Minion said, shaking himself in his bowl. "Sounded like five hundred. All of them screaming."

"Not all of them screamed, Minion," Megamind said, scowling. "_She _didn't. She might have gasped a little."

Minion frowned a bit. How could he tell?

"Which one?" he asked.

"Wasn't it obvious?" Megamind cried. "The girl from the restaurant!"

"What restaurant?"

Megamind scoffed. "What do you mean 'what restaurant'? The girl with the purple coat that had the little pink daisies, and the buttons on the sleeves, and the matching purple boots with the ridiculous fake fur trim, I don't know why they have to slap a bunch of fuzzy fur on everything, those manufacturers aren't fooling anybody, and the coat went down to her, um, below her, um, waist, and she had that little mole on her jawline, and her bangs kept getting in her eyes."

He paused. Minion was staring at him. "What?" he snapped.

Minion blinked and tore his gaze away. "Nothing. Nothing, Sir," he said, looking back at the road, all business.

_That was...a lot of detail, _Minion thought. There was another extended silence. Minion turned on the radio.

"I know where to go," said Megamind. "No more skulking!" He gave Minion instructions and turned to glare out the window.

"I just wish I knew what her name was," he muttered under his breath. Not that it mattered. At all.

* * *

Gladys took another cigarette out of her pack and lit it. The TV droned and flickered in the background. The Late Late Show was on. She wasn't that interested in the guests that night, but she kept the TV on out of habit. The neon light of the hotel gleamed red through the fractured frost of the window. Her boyfriend Ralph snored on the couch.

She was thumbing through yesterday's newspaper when the doorbell in the lobby jingled. She heaved herself to her feet and walked out to the counter, taking a drag off the cigarette and blowing smoke in the air. She considered the couple who had entered.

No luggage, though one of them held a satchel. Hmph. Probably just wanted a room for an hour. Well, they could damn well pay for the whole night.

They were completely covered with swathes of hoods and scarves. They hovered inside the doorway of the cramped lobby. The bigger one nudged the other in the back. The smaller figure smacked him in the torso with a rather loud 'thunk'.

Gladys pursed her lips and tapped the cigarrette on the edge of the ashtray. "Well, are you comin' in or what?" she said.

The shorter one...that must be the gal... leaned forward a bit, then walked across the carpeting to the desk.

The gal cleared her throat and said "A room for...cough...the night, how much do I owe you?" in a voice quivering all over the place.

Gladys' face didn't move a muscle. Not a woman, then. But not a _man_ either. Her eyes moved briefly to the silent, hulking figure in the doorway.

Kid was probably a runaway.

"You need two beds or one?" she asked. She looked at the boy's swathed face and tried to see into the darkness of the hood without being too obvious about it. The scarf covered him pretty well. All she could make out were a couple of bright eyes, blinking and darting around. The boy took half a step back from the counter.

"Um...just...one...I guess," the boy said uncertainly.

_I knew it, _Gladys thought in grim satisfaction. Well, who was she to judge? Actually, she judged people all the time. This world was a den of sin and vice, but it wasn't any of her business, as long as they paid in full. She told him the price and he pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket. She didn't bat an eye at that, either. He peeled off a few bills.

"Room 210. Checkout's at noon. Sign here," she said, pushing the sign-in book toward him. The boy was shifting his weight from foot to foot. _Nerves, _thought Gladys. _Maybe hasn't decided what name to use. Should've thought about that ahead of time, sonny. _

The boy twirled the pen around in his fingers, then leaned over the book and wrote furiously. He slapped the pen down and yanked his arm back like he was afraid she was going to grab him.

"Have fun, boys," she said, handing over the key. The boy snatched the key, clenching it in his fist.

"Uh...okay?" he said, then he whirled and went up the stairs. Gladys stared at the silent big man who followed him. She was not surprised that he avoided her eyes.

_Yeah, I know your type,_ she thought, exhaling a stream of smoke. _Don't want me to see your face, huh? Making the kid pay for this little rendezvous? Makes me sick. _

She pulled the sign-in book toward her and looked at the name. _John Parker. Hmph. Might as well be John Smith. And if that's a real address, I'll eat the ashtray. _

She went back into her office and settled down to read the paper again. She turned the pages, Ralph's snoring providing a soothing background rumble. There was a blare of laughter from the TV, but she still caught the sound of the bell jingling again, ever so slightly. It sounded _just like _the sound of someone doing their best to open the lobby door as quietly as possible.

Eyes narrowed, she hurried out to the front desk again. She was just in time to catch a glimpse of a couple of guys slipping up the stairs.

She recognized the first one! That bum Terence! Sneaking his junkie friend in!

She flounced back to the office. She'd warned them! She picked up the phone and called the police. She drew the line at drug dealers. Her place would go downhill in no time if she started letting their kind in.

* * *

Once inside the room, Megamind shed his coat and several layers of clothes like a maddened whirling dervish and crashed into the bathroom. Minion pulled off his hood and unwrapped his scarves. He was not happy about this, not at all. He did not like the way that hotel manager had scrutinized them. Awkwardly he began dragging at one of the sleeves of the coat. It kept catching on his elbow joint. He wasn't used to clothes. Somehow he got it off without ripping it, which he was tempted to do more than once, but he would need it so they could sneak out of here again.

He looked down at the trousers that hid his robotic legs. It had taken a bit of doing to get them on. He felt a little ridiculous, but he supposed he'd better leave them on.

The sound of a TV drifted through the thin wall. Minion could hear the sounds of people talking from a room right above them, their voices punctuated by brief bursts of laughter.

The toilet flushed and Megamind came out beaming with relief and smug satisfaction.

"What did I tell you, Minion? Smooooooooth," he said, moving his arm through the air as if he were smoothing out a sheet.

"I don't like it," Minion grumbled.

Megamind 'tch'-ed and rolled his eyes. "So this isn't the Hilton," he said. "But..." He flopped over the room's creaking heater. "...it's waaaaaaarm." He closed his eyes and sighed.

"I still don't like it," Minion said. "And I don't think she thought we were father and son, Sir."

"I know exactly what she was thinking, Minion. Who cares? It's not against the law for two men to rent a hotel room.

"But, if you're going to be a worrywart, you can stand guard at this handy window here." With a flourish, he whipped back the heavy tattered curtain. "It overlooks the street."

"Sir! Someone'll see!" Minion said, yanking the curtain closed again.

Grinning, Megamind turned to go back into the bathroom. "Nobody ever looks up in this town, Minion. Now. I am going to take a shower, and I'm not coming out until every drop of hot water on the _block _is gone."

He slammed the door behind him with gusto.

Just his luck, it was a slow night for the Metro City Police Department. They responded to Gladys' call in short order.

* * *

Megamind was seriously considering sleeping in the shower. He'd been so cold it felt like his _bones _were frozen. The hot water was thawing him out.

A metal arm reached through the shower curtain and turned the water off.

"There had better be," Megamind said, "an _extremely _good-"

"Sir, the police are here!"

Dripping and furious, Megamind clutched the towel around his waist and went to the window.

A squad car was parked on the street. "You have GOT to be kidding me!" he shouted.

He scrubbed off with the towel vigorously. Still damp, he yanked his clothes on while Minion opened the door a crack and listened.

"Sir, I can hear the manager! She said something about the second floor! I think they're coming up!"

Pulling on his boots, Megamind hopped out into the hall. Minion grabbed their coats and scarves, and made a flustered effort to get all of the scattered clothes. Megamind hadn't bothered trying to put all of his many layers back on, but had made do with one shirt and pair of pants. There were too many garments. Trembling, arms full of coats, he joined Megamind in the hall. The sound of footsteps came from the stairwell.

Megamind raised the de-gun.

"Sir, check the setting!" Minion whispered, suddenly uneasy. "What's it set on?"

Megamind didn't bother answering. He noticed, with a vague detachment, that the gun did not shake at all. The night of their escape seemed a very long time ago. The de-gun was an extension of him now. He knew exactly which setting it was on.

Gladys came out of the stairwell first, sifting through a bunch of keys in her hand. She took two more steps and looked up. At the sight of Megamind she gasped and froze. The cop behind her was equally surprised. Two pairs of wide eyes confronted him. Megamind shot the cop. The cube dropped to the thin gray carpet. There was a yelp from the second officer, then a lot of banging and crashing as he fell down the stairs. Gladys flattened herself against the wall as Megamind dashed past. Minion followed.

The other cop was lying on the first landing, face contorted in pain, holding his arm. Megamind jumped over him on his flight down.

"Wait, Sir! You should get him too!" Minion yelled. The sound of pounding feet was the only reply. Minion stopped by the stricken cop, leaned down and took the gun from his holster.

"Stay there," he said. The cop didn't look to be in any shape to follow, anyway. Minion hurried down, coats in one hand, gun in the other.

From above, Gladys found her voice, and began screaming. Megamind was darting around the lobby in a flurry of impatience. A voice from the hotel's office thundered, "Gladys? What's the matter?"

"Come on, come on, hurry up, slowpoke!" Megamind cried. He pushed out into the freezing night.

Minion shouldered the frost-covered door a little too hard and the glass cracked. "Oops," he muttered.

He joined Megamind on the sidewalk, who had stopped by the squad car.

The police car was idling. _  
_

They glanced at each other. The car chugged, waiting.

"I'm driving," Minion said, surging around the front bumper.

Megamind leaped over the hood. "No, I am!" he shouted. Cackling, he yanked open the door and jumped behind the wheel.

"Wha-? No fair!" Minion cried. He hurried back around to the passenger side. He barely got in before Megamind hit the gas. They tore down the street with a squeal of tires.

"Where's the sirens? Turn 'em on! Full speed ahead!" Megamind shouted. Minion found the switch, and they blared along the road at full intensity.

"Did you see them? The looks on their faces?" Minion laughed. "That was awesome!"

Megamind opened the window and leaned out into the arctic air. "Eat my dust, Metrocity!" he shouted, and laughed long and hard. He pulled his head back in and rolled the window up, and they roared off into the night.

* * *

The two officers who had answered the call at the hotel were suspended for leaving their car in a vulnerable position. And they were the butt of their colleagues' jokes for many weeks thereafter, for general idiocy.

* * *

Parker trudged up the stairs. The ending of the cold snap had not brought an end to his troubles. His wife was not doing well. She was drifting, wandering around the house like a ghost. Sometimes she didn't even get out of bed until after noon. Her doctor prescribed a new medication, but he warned him to keep an eye on her.

"Morning, Andrew," he said to his assistant, but his eyes were on the two men waiting in the reception area.

One of them overwhelmed the chair. Everything about him was blocky, from his head to his squat legs. The other was a clean-cut blond man with a strong jaw. He stood up in one smooth movement. The blocky man heaved himself upright.

Clean-cut took out his badge to show Parker and gave him a slight smile. "Mr. Parker? I'm Agent Ed Corbin, Department of Paranormal Investigations." They shook hands. Parker restrained a grimace. Agent Corbin was the sort who equated 'a firm handshake' with 'a bone-crushing grip.'

"This is my partner, Agent Leroy Bates." Bates also shook hands, but made no attempt at a smile. At least he didn't try the bone-crushing maneuver.

"May we have a few minutes of your time? I have some questions about your foster son," said Agent Corbin.

* * *

_**"But wait!" you might be thinking. "Wouldn't the water in the cistern be frozen? How could Metro Man pour it out?" Well, he used his laser vision to melt it of course, but there didn't seem to be a way to work it into the narrative without sounding overly expositive. Or perhaps you are not thinking of that at all, but are wondering what the heck Agent Corbin is up to.**_


End file.
